


The Other Side

by ImmigrantPhenomenon



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Bed-Wetting, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Blood, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Chronic Pain, Dark Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Gay John Laurens, Hospitalization, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Bond, Magical Tattoos, Masturbation, Needles, Occlumency, Original Character(s), Pain, Physical Therapy, Psychic Bond, Red String of Fate, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Single Parents, Smut, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmigrantPhenomenon/pseuds/ImmigrantPhenomenon
Summary: All Alex has to do was follow the string, tied around his right pinky in a perfect bow. The only part of him not beaten raw, bloodied and bruised. The only part of him that still held hope.His red string would save him. Whoever was on the other end would save him, love him, even after everything had been taken away.All he had to do was follow it.





	1. I Need You

John tried to swallow the pain, gasping as his stomach seized up again. He clutched at it, hobbling to the teachers desk again for the fifth time this week.

A cold sweat broke out over his forehead, running down his temples. It mixed with a fevering heat, making him burn and freeze simultaneously. He whimpered, feeling a hand find his back, a hand he became well acquainted with over those last five days. He lead him away from the peering gazes, only one pair of eyes staying on him as he left the classroom. Lafayette and Hercules jumped to action, immediately taking over the class such as they had been every other day. Whenever a student had to leave, most kids just stayed quiet and in their seats, but lately it's been way too common and it took up way too much of their class time.

He gasped again, tears pricking his eyes and bubbling down his face. He felt his body cramp up, undeniable hunger mixing with the dull ache of exhaustion, hanging down on him. It wasn't long before he was on the floor in the middle of the hallway, the hand still on his back as he heaved, heavy bile choking from his throat and staining the floor. He shook violently, arms almost collapsing with the effort of keeping himself up.

That hand travelled down his back, hoisting him up when he was nothing but a shuddering mess on the floor, having given everything his stomach had to give leaving him with empty dry heaves. Mr. Washington cradled the small boy in his arm, curling around the corner to the pristine white infirmary, door open and welcome.

John swayed in his grip, tired and delirious with pain and fatigue he cried out, stomach lurching again. He didn't know if he wanted to eat or throw up again, body sending mixed signals from his own body and another, making his head tease him with formatted spins.

He barely felt it when he was passed into another set of arms, slender and feminine, these took him and held him tighter, close and comforting. They were familiar, too familiar, his new home seeming to become the school nurse’s station. But it was nice, the change, Mr. Washington held him stiff, like it was a job he needed to get done or an accomplishment he needed to achieve. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was just he was a teach and John a student. They didn't need a relationship to get along, merely to teach and learn. The nurse on the other hand held him with capable palms and and beating heart, snuggling him to her soft bosom, keeping him want and comfortable.

He groaned again, tears spilling onto her pale blue scrunchie.

“John,” her voice was soothing. Not a hint of anger or annoyance graced her perfect persona. She was the kind of person who just _couldn't_ get angry. Almost like her daughter, but Eliza's been known to get a little frisky if it was needed. “I need you to tell me what hurts.”

He was placed on the bed, limbs spread over the plastic covering of the chair like bed.

“M-my stomach-” he rolled into a ball, trying to disperse the aching in his body, but to no avail.

“How?”

“L-like I'm… I'm _hungry_ .” He gasped, “ _and_ sick.” He clenched his teeth, focusing on the red bow around this left pinky.

The string _had_ seemed brighter lately, and it never went away. Normally a person could control when they wanted to see their soul string, it wasn't necessarily a constant, you had to really focus to see it. If either you or your soulmate wanted to see it, it appeared, but it didn't stay so it didn't mess with your normal life.

But now it just _wouldn't_ _leave_.

It was a constant painful reminder, triggering pain, anger, and guilt. A constant reminder that someone was causing him this pain, someone was either hurt or an incredibly self absorbed lunatic, starving themselves on purpose. But those thoughts made him guilty. No way would someone be that crazy, and no way would that be his soulmate. That only made him wonder what they _must_ be going through, to have this much pain _constantly_.

And now his soulmate wouldn't let the string go, always burning red around his pinky.

“John, honey, I'm so sorry there's nothing I can do.” John nodded, sobbing again. There never was.

“H-hurts.”

“I'm going to take you home. Okay?”

“M-mama’s not home right now. At w-work.”

Mrs. Schuyler swallowed, tying her inky hair in a loose bun. John only called his mother 'mama’ when it was really bad.

“Then I'll take you to _my_ house. The school knows me and they know you and your mother, they'll be fine with me taking you.”

“Y-yeah.” He simpered, gagging.

She handed him a bag, holding it to his face as he heaved again, helping him sit in the chair.

“You're poor soulmate.”

“I-I know.” He wiped the spit off his chin, eyes wide with fear. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard it felt like it wanted to rip itself from his chest. “They've been through a lot.” He simpered.

“Well so have you. Let's go.” She paused her frantic rush to gather papers and bag, loading her arms before turning around. “Can you stand?”

“I-I’ll be okay.”

John stood, only for another wave of nausea to smack him back down. Still he grabbed the windowsill, pulling himself up-

_Pain_ , it felt like Hercules picked him up and threw him across the gymnasium. He screamed, body collapsing into the wall, heart beating too fast to be safe. A sharp stab spread across his forehead, making him fall forward and hit the ground with a groan.

“Mrs Schuyler!” He cried, body brimming with pain. He heard a faint clump, a pair of arms tightening around his torso before everything froze. He gagged over air, suddenly overcoming with unbearable agony.

His head lolled to the side, punctuating the sudden silence with a choked sound, followed by blood. He spit out stream after stream of boiling red liquid, escaping the grasp of the nurse so he could steady himself on the floor.

The onslaught of blood tore up his throat, leaving it numb with torment and spasming in a weak attempt to cough up more of his life stream. When it didn't start again, the nurse didn't even spare a second, taking a long blue strip of stretchy matieral and tying it around his arm up near his shoulder.

He didn't remember much after that, only the top of a needle breaking his skin and his eyelids dropping.

…

John inhaled weakly, lungs burning. He didn't understand why he felt so shitty, like he'd run mile completely unprepared.

He gasped, tumbling out of a bright pink bed, adorned with matching pillows and sheets. He took another sickening inhale, body demanding the air he couldn't quite seem to get, head pounding and heart racing.

His thump must've alerted whoever was downstairs, the door shooting open a quick second after he flailed of the bed.

“John!” He knew those voices… but they seemed so distant, long gone to the pain. “Jacky, look at me- can you see me?” Feminine, tough, protective-

“Angelica?”

“Yes, Jacky,” arms, much like Mrs. Schuyler’s, wrapping around his torso for the umpteenth time and hauling him into her lap. “It's me.”

He coughed, still struggling through intakes of breath. His body was wearing down with a physical fatigue, a post workout tiredness that followed him as he struggled out of her grasp.

“I d-don’t-” he collapsed again, lungs heaving. “N-need help.” He noted how helpless he actually sounded, hearing and feeling it come out like a puff of air rather than anything else.

“John.” He opened his bleary eyes, watering with the light that shone through the window. He hissed, squinting as she moved to shut them, eyes him as she did. “You can barely _breathe_. I'm pretty damn sure you need help.” John remained stubborn.

“M’fine.” He grumbled. His hand found the side of the bedpost, curling it around its edges and pulling.

He choked again, the steady ache of his joints getting stronger the further he tried to go, sobbing when he only got halfway and the pain became unbearable. He tried to lower himself back down, but it was too much, arms giving up with his legs one last finalizing time.

Angelica was there to catch him this time, saving his throbbing head from cracking open over her white carpet. “I'm fine.” He grumbled again, sighing.

“John, what's up with you?”

“I don't know!” His head fell into her lap, her legs folded under his neck for support, covering his sore eyes with his hands. “Everything aches and burns and stings- I don't know what to do about it anymore!” he wiped away the tears he hadn't realized gathered, bending his knees. “It hurts so much…” a weak attempt at hope, his heart hammering within his chest.

“Is… is it yours?”

“My what?” He bit his tongue. He didn't mean for it to come out sounding so snarky. He wasn't mad at her, he was mad at whoever was on the other side of this dned string, tying him to a madman.

“Your pain.” Oh. _Oh._

Soulmates were touchy subjects for Angelica. _Way touchy_ , but for good reason. When Angelica was seven, her and John began feeling the exact same things- the hunger, the pain bubbling in their legs as if their legs were the only thing that could save them, and the hurt in their chests. At one point they described the _exact_ same thing to different people, in different places, at the exact same time.

It was rather easy to make a connection. Their strings were tied, leading them to the same person for happiness. But one day, when she was eleven, John ten, they both felt this _agonizing_ heat, burning, death looming darker than a storm.

Only Angelica knows how much it hurts her and John both. John had prayed, and hoped, he went to church everyday- through the pain- and prayed for it to leave _Angelica_. All he wanted was for her to stop feeling everything they had to, give all the hurt to him, keep it away from them both… and at the time, Angelica agreed.

She prayed for _herself_ . It was just instinct, and at the age of eleven she wasn't quite grasping how much she needed to care for others and _not_ just herself. She didn't want this pain, the suffering and their prayers were answered.

They're crushed everyday by the pressure, the guilt. They each blame themselves, but neither really understood how it happened.

The very next day, the ribbon tied around her left pinky lost it's string, leaving only a dull bow. The pain was gone, but in a perfect, pretty cursive scrawl, right over her heart the word _Satisfied_ danced over her features.

They don't know how it got there, or what it meant, but what they did know was the bond was broken. Angelica no longer had a Soulmate, and since John still did, he couldn't help but take the blame.

“Angie…”

“It's okay, I want to know. I still feel… connected. You know?” She paused, rubbing his shoulders.

They're bond was unbreakable. Even without a string, they had a connection no one else did, and they weren't too keen on throwing it away.

“I still feel like… never mind.” Damn her. She knew John would be too weak to put up a fight for her thoughts. “Answer my question.”

“No.”

“Um- could you be more clear?”

“It's not mine.”

“Oh.” He felt the warmth recede from her like her blood turned to ice, only for it to melt and return again. “What about you're string?”

“No change.”

Fate was a complicated thing. It really was. There were so many twists and turns, paths and roads, so many mistakes and so many chances you could take. It was easy to forget some people had it easier than they, and some way harder.

It was almost like people were divided into categories.

You either had a string, or a timer. Then you could either feel their pain, or write on your skin. Some people had matching, unique, tattoos, while others had a band of color around their wrists, signifying the color of their soulmates hair. Some people were colorblind until they met the one.

Some people don’t have anything at all.

Some people lost theirs.

Some people's changed.

Angelica lives for those stories. She digs and digs, researches and suffers over everything and anything that could explain why she lost hers. Anything for an answer. She knows everything there is to know about Mates, and she desperately tried to stay connected to John's.

She knew everything, especially about strings.

“No color difference? No change in the way it's tied? Nothing?”

“Sorry.” He curled into her lap, letting her finger dance over his back. His head throbbed at the turn, groaning. At least the stomach pain subsided, at least for now. “They're asleep.” He heard a pleased sigh.

“How do you know?”

“Pain’s gone… mostly.” A pause. “Hey Angie?”

“Yeah?” Angelica thumbed the knots in his neck, trying to sooth his tension.

He took a breath. “What does it mean if my string never goes away?”

Angelica's eyes went wide, heart skipping a beat, “You mean like mine?” Hurt burned in her vocie, and suddenly John shook with guilt.

“Nonono, I'm so sorry- I mean like I can _see it_ … like _all_ the time.” He turned, sitting up quickly. That proved to be a mistake, pain flaring up his back and through his skull. “So-rry-” he gasped.

Angelica gave a sad smile, pulling him back while the words settled.


	2. Tell Me You Want Me

Alex held his breath, hands grasping weakly at his stomach. _So hungry_ , it gargled and grumbled every night from his departure.

It's been a month since he'd escaped and a week since his supplies ran out.

Left with only a paper, his perfect handwriting packed tightly into every space there was on in. He had bandages wrapped around his legs, arms and torso that he's grown to write on whenever he snagged something to write with. It didn't matter that pain followed him, never ceasing to beat him until he couldn't move, he was used to it. Writing was the only thing keeping him from taking the old rope rolled in the other corner and securing it around his neck.

Writing and that string.

The string was what started his journey in the first place. It gave him hope when the world decided he didn't deserve to have it. It let him know that someone, someone who could be on the opposite side of the world, cared about him and wanted him and needed him just as much as Alex did.

He never let the red rope disappear from sight, always lingering because his eyes never left it. He could almost _feel_ it shortening with every step he took or every foot the ship proceeded through the waves.

He knew the charter was headed for Europe, save only a stop in America for supplies, staying firmly put in his corner.

What he didn't know, was the captain required a search for every stop they made, and they'd just docked in Orlando.

Alex's heart stopped when a man with a heavy accent started talking, sounding exactly how you'd imagine a pirate did. “Cap’in said don’ hesitate to throw off any run’ways.”

His breath hitched, trying desperately not to make a sound. He clutched himself tighter, hoping his stomach wouldn't give him away.

He knew how risky it was to be on this ship, but he had no other choice. And in Nevis, it happened _all_ the time. Kids, teens, everyone tried to escape this way, all too poor to afford life. He knew what had happened to some of the kids who were caught, and those were not pretty stories.

But he had no choice. It was either stay put and die, or try to live and quite possibly die.

The thoughts made him shiver, a cold dred settling in his stomach, right next to his need for food. He felt like vomiting, head aching with so many needs he couldn't satisfy. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, mind aching and turning and screaming.

The footsteps proceeded down the ladder, Alex's hear trying to claw its way from his chest. A hand covered his mouth, biting his lip and tongue to keep from crying out in fear. He began shivering as the floorboards creaked with every passing second.

Then his stomach rumbled.

Loud, he curled around himself further, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Wha’ was tha’?” The man spoke, his voice suddenly terrifying.

“You go back up, I'll check.” This voice was feminine. He couldn't help but find it less menacing. After his father left, all men just became scary for him. He didn't trust them, or even want to, he just needed his Mama and a soft, fragile hand to hold. He didn't need a big man who could snap him in half. “Who's here?” Louder, his stomach rumbled again and this time, he couldn't stop the cry pushing past his hands. “I'm not gonna hurt you.” The voice promised. But it sounded genuine, suddenly sweeter.

Alex sobbed again, moving his hand after a failed attempt at trying to keep quiet, the pressure suddenly too much.

A lady turned around the corner, just as he began to vomit, spewing with such a force it singed his throat. The purging acid cleared what he had left in his body, until he was forcing dry heaves and spit, burning his raw throat. He wanted his mother, to hold him, tell him he was okay. But Mama wasn't here. Not anymore.

The thought made his stomach clench, his heart doing the same. “Mama!” He screamed, “Mama…!”

“Shh-” the last kneeled next to him, avoiding his mess. “I’m here to help.”

“I'm sorry-” Alex cried, plastering hair to his wet cheeks, “I don't want to die, please- I can't- I have to find-”

“Shh. I'm here to _help._ I'm well known amongst the Caribbean Islands. They call me HT.”

Alex only sobbed harder, her voice lost. “The Harriet Tubman for runaway kids.” This sparked the smallest amount of serenity in him, giving him enough time to breathe. He sucked in a breath, wiping his eyes, sniffling as she continued to talk. “There isn't much I can do for you know, seeing as you made it this far, but I can get you off the boat.”

His heart picked up speed, “Y-you can?”

“I have to play my part if I want to stay on the ship. They're going to have to know I found you, but they won't kill you.”

“D-don't- kill me-”

“Shh. Follow me.”

Alex could barely register anything. His hand was pulled, and he was tucked out from behind multitudes of shelves, stack with identical products. She continued to tug until they were above deck, and his breath was snatched once again.

“Trust me.” She whispered, before tossing him into the center of a circle of barrels. Men outlined the boxes, all staring down at what she'd scarffed from beneath the ship. “Found the little fuck hiding in our supplies.”

He felt his chest tight, thinking he might have thrown up if he had anything left to. His heart beat a little faster, so fast he wasn't sure it could pick up anymore speed. Her words hung before him, closing his eyes. _Trust me, trust me, trust me._

“Whadda’ gonna do 'bout it?”

“Just throw 'em off.” She responded, any hint of care gone. “He'll die either way.”

He should've kept his eyes open. At least then he'd be prepared for the swift movement. Voices start laughing around him, laughing _at_ him, torturing his meddled mind. Everything ached, and burned _before_ he was picked up, and it only got worse.

They must've missed the bag that was slipped over his shoulders.

Too engrossed in pushing him overboard. But, no, they'd didn't just push him over. He was picked up by two men and _hurled_ over the side of the ship like a fucking bean bag.

He barely realized the impact, only noticing the pain. _Pure agony_ , splitting his head open. Red clouded his vision, a large wound slicing open the corner of his forehead, but still he knew better than to stay. He clutched the bag swallowing him skinny frame and took off into the trees.

It had to be pure luck by now, the branches scratching him up as he ran blindly through the foliage, but somehow he managed to miss all the trees, staying firmly on his feet until he absolutely couldn't anymore.

He swallowed his cries, saving his voice for when he'd really need it.

He clenched against the pain, opening his eyes only to find his right sealed shut by blood. Above it, his skin stung with the fresh cut, burning his skin. He pressed a hand flush to it, hissing, but keeping the pressure. he tore off one of the handles around the bag, the cheap cloth easy to tear apart.

He swallowed, tying the cloth around his head to stop- or at least slow down -the bleeding. He was relieved when it took of a pinch of the pain.

He leaned against the tree when his stomach grumbled again, snaking his arms around his torso and squeezing as hard as he could, despite knowing it was only hurting himself, mad that his stomach got him here in the first.

A jolt of cold air sent a shiver down his back. He was supposed to be headed to Europe, not stuck in-

Another violent shiver. His body couldn't take anymore of this. His eyes darted to the glowing red string, his savior, his lifeline, his guide. It was leading him inland. He was _supposed_ to be in America. He let out a hysterical laugh, eyes welling with tears as they poured and his giggles turned pained.

In the middle of a forest, nobody can hear you scream.

So he did. All the anger, pain, sadness, all the thoughts rushing through his head- he screamed and cried and flailed his arms like a toddler, but god it helped.

So tired and so worn out, his screaming slowly diminished and his tears dried on his face leaving unflattering marks, but it gave him enough peace to rest. He pulled out the bag, limbs already heavy, and balanced it over a tree root.

It had to be the softest thing he's laid on in _months._ Sleep came rather easily, despite the gurgles and the creaks of his body.

…

He's never heard his body crack in as many different places as it did that morning. His bones sounded brittle, snapping at each other just by sitting up.

He had been in a rather weird position, sprawled over the unforgivingly large roots of the tree he found refuge under, leaving him numb with the vague stab of pins and needles as his body tried to wake itself up. At least his head ceased aching, the only pain coming from the stab in his forehead, but even that was nothing compared to before.

It was like he was doused in pain killers, the pain seeming to leave him long enough the catch a second of air before his lungs began burning again.

He cracked open an eye, taking in the calming scent of the ocean and fruit wafting around him. This was the smell he grew up with, the airy calmness a reminder of the love he had. And what he lost.

He crouched up, grabbing onto a low branch for support. He flung the bag over his shoulder sticking a hand inside it as he ducked around the greenery.

He stifled a moan when his fingers grazed over something soft, familiar. _Bread_. He dug it out fiercely, stomach rumbling in painful agreement as he tore it open. The golden outside tore way to something pure white, flakey perfection.

He wasted no time sinking his teeth into it. _And fuck_ , it melted on his tongue instantly, tasting of butter to match it's warmth. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, savouring what he could.

He couldn't help himself when the rest came to mind, scarfing it down as fast as he could but it was barely enough to scratch at the need still pounding within him.

But he didn't ponder on it, lifting his finger instead to find- a blue string. But not completely blue, more like a hug had been added to the red, making it stick out bright purple over the dirt and grass.

And fuck him if he didn't know what it meant. He scanned over a book that touched at subjects like these, but in the Caribbean, nobody ever mentioned things like that. There, it was a secret, you didn't mention what your sign was or who it could possibly be. It was considered taboo.

They thought that it would go away if they didn't think about it, most people afraid of the commitment it forced, but not Alexander. He doesn’t know much, but he knows Fate likes to play games. He knows how vast connections can be, he just doesn't exactly know what some of the connections are.

He knew a girl that had a tattoo on her _face_ . Even her parents were ashamed that she showed it off so bluntly, like she had a say in matter, and he knew it was the same concept as his string but so different at the same time. He knew about pain. He could always feel pain that wasn't his and it took him _forever_ to realize it was just one of the connections.

The color change didn't scare him. He knew it meant something, he just wasn't sure what and to him, that was more like a game. _Let's see how long it takes to figure it out_ or _if I ever do_.

He smiled. It was small, barely an upturn over his lips, but it was there. Maybe, _just maybe_ , whoever was on the other side knew why it was changing. And maybe, _just fucking maybe_ , they knew what it was doing and they were doing it just for Alex. Just to soothe his pain. _Maybe_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what self control looks like.


	3. Just Give Me a Sign

“Fu-ck y-ou-” John hiccuped, holding his hand to Angelica's heart. The problem wasn't with what they were trying to do, but how that had to do it.

“Come on. It's not that bad. Besides, it's the only way I've read it will work.”

Her mind was racing, ideas and rejects filtering through her mind like a storm. Three books lay open, sprawled around her so she could read any of them at will, her hand covering John's.

John hiccuped again. He always hiccuped when he was nervous.

“I've heard of quite a few bonds of three people over the past few days and they just keep getting more explicit.” She sounded so excited, John really didn't understand why.

Deep in the back of his mind it nagged at him, but he knew better than to bring it up. There was a small chance, _microscopic_ , that this would work. Angelica wants to feel connected again, even if the odds don't fall in her favor, if there are odds at all, she's going to take them.

And she was right. Bonds of three have become more common.

“So what do I have to do?”

“Let me see the string.” John nodded and closed his eyes. Showing other people the string was basically like showing it to yourself; focus on it, and it alone. The faint line came into view shortly after, the red glare blending into her pink bedroom, but still dark enough to see. John exhaled, figure jumping with another hiccuped. “Now, I want you to think of something calm. Something you, personally, find soothing.”

“Then what?”

“We look for a change. All we're hoping for is a sign, something that'll tell us we were able to take away their pain, even just for a second.”

“Right.” John's voice shook, nerves jumping. He's never tried to connect to thoroughly to his other half, it was a little scary. “And you're sure it'll work?”

“Of course I'm not sure.” She scoffed, “Fate doesn't believe people should be 'sure.’” She made finger quotes in the air, making John giggle slightly. He assumes it can't hurt to try.

John pulls himself into her lap, pressing his hand a little firmer. He shakes away the awkwardness of having his hand on her boob, making sure to keep it flat so it doesn't seem like he's trying to grope her.

He breathed through his nose, swallowing any air that was given to him. His heart began racing, excitement and adrenaline flooding his sense, trying to calm down.

He let the images of his mother, tucking him in at night, making him food, snuggling and watching movies with him. He basks in the warmth it floods him with, smiling, another image flooding his mind-

A frail boy, hair cascading over his shoulders, the brown glowing gold in the light. His eyes were a beautiful chocolate color, the candy taste flooding his mouth the longer he looked. He was running around with a lady, his mother, John assumed, rain dancing around them in small drops.

“John-!”

His heart stopped, the boy's voice sounded so pretty, giggling. The mother grinned at him, “My Alexander…”

“John!”

John's eyes grew wider, rounder with fondness, biting his lip. _Alexander_.

“JOHN LAURENS!”

He opened his eyes, watching the scene sink away from him, Angelica voice overpowering the memory. A stupid grin fell into place, teeth showing through his freckles. Angelica wore a smile too, noticing the string; bright blue.

He gaped again, smile growing wider. “Angelica!” He cried, tears growing in his eyes, “I saw him- I think I saw him!” They spilled down his cheeks, face shining and the pain long forgotten. “I saw him.” He whispered again, like he couldn't believe it himself.

“You… saw-?” Her face began glowing too, heart beats matching in speed. “Oh shit- _oh shit_ \- you have to tell me everything- oh my _fuck_!” John jumped up, smiling so wide, a lump forming in his throat. Angelica followed him, wrapping her arms around his torso and picking his small figure off the ground, letting his legs wrap around hers as they laughed. “John that's amazing!”

Suddenly Angelica stopped, dropping the boy. He gave a surprised mewl, but didn't protest when he saw the look in Angelica's eye.

“Draw him.”

“Wha-”

“Please? We've all seen your art, please just draw him!” John swallowed. He didn't draw for people… but maybe Angelica was an exception. Angelica and his- Alex. His Alex.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Her face lit up brighter, “Okay!” They jumped up together, practically tumbling out the door. John hit his head on the frame, the corner digging into his skull. Angelica could only smile wider when she heard him faintly whisper, “Sorry, Alex.” clutching the spot he hit.

When they raced downstairs, they paid no mind to the gathered stares of her sisters and mother, rushing straight to the printer in her father's office.

John stuck to the kitchen, right at the bottom of the stairs, finding the side of the island that faced the stairs and leaning over it, waiting for Angelica to return with the paper and pencils. It barely took her a second before she was rushing out from one of the swinging doors on either side of the staircase, plopping the materials in front of him.

Peggy scooted over to the next barstool, eyeing them warily. “What… the fuck.” She gazed over her math book to the stacked papers.

Mrs. Schuyler stopped cutting the half of lettuce under her fingers to give her daughter a twinkling smile of mischief. Almost everyone loved Mrs. Schuyler, she was almost like a child herself. She never chided language, or sexual comments. Nothing. She was moremthan ore extre laid back, but stern at the same time. She was basically the perfect mother.

Eliza crammed next to her, moving the cheese grater so she could see what John was working on without stopping her dinner preparations. She swayed her hips into her mother's, making the nurse giggle. “Don't test me, _chica_ , you cannot beat these-” she swerved her hips again, pushing Eliza away from the sink, giggling.

“Gross mom.” Peggy groaned, but a smile minced the words.

“Please, ten years of Tango classes better give me _something_ sexy.” Peggy made a fake gagging noise, Eliza following. John on the other hand laughed. He really loved this family.

He quickly snatched a pencil off the counter, the memory still burning behind his eyelids, sketching out the face.

“What am I going to do with you two.” Mrs. Schuyler pointed at him and Angelica. “You've always been inseparable, I just don't get it. If anything I woulda thought John would've been more attached to Eliza…” Angelica stuck her tongue out.

“I can make friends!”

Peggy snorted, “Yeah. John.”

“Ooo,” Eliza leaned over the counter. “Drama.” She grinned. Peggy began to glow with pride.

“I've been coming up with a few comebacks here and there.”

“Nice.”

“Not nice.” Angelica cut in. “Geez, I don't even know why you stay here John, they're so fucking annoying.” John merely pushed the pencil eraser into his cheek.

“Cause you're here, of course.” He poked her with it, without taking his eyes off the page. Face shape looked good, now the eyes. _He could never forget those eyes._

“Aww.” Their mother cooed from over the stove. “Oh, and by the way John, your staying for dinner. _Tu madre estará aquí también_.” (You're mother will be here too)

“ _Tu español está mejorando_.” John  commented, making the girls groan. (You're Spanish is getting better)

“ _Gracias.” (Thank you)_

“ _De nada.” (You're Welcome)_

“English! No hablo español- or some shit like that-” Peggy tossed her pen at John's forehead. He faked a cry, continuing with the face. His heart leapt at the sight, it really did look like him.

Before he could get any further on the hair, just a sketch outlining his frame, Angelica gasped, holding that paper over her heart.

“John!” She cheered, “You've majorly scored- damn.” Her eyes softened the more she looked over the page. She huffed out some air, “I can't wait to meet him.” She whispered to John, watching him untense.

“I bet he can't wait to meet you either.” He bopped her nose, then kissed her cheek.

Mrs. Schuyler passed them with a large tray adorned with toppings, pointing for them to take it to the table. Peggy closed her book and began to set the table, Eliza pouring the shredded cheese into a bowl and bring it over next.

“You must teach me how you get that kind of reaction out of John.” Mrs. Schuyler smiled, pecking John. He scrunched up his nose in mock disgust, taking the paper, folding it and sticking it in his pocket.

…

The pain didn't come back until later that night.

His mother had surprised him but coming home early, bringing strawberries dipped in chocolate for dessert too. Her sweet face was nice to see after a day like the one he just had, hugging her immediately.

He was almost a spotting image of her, which he adored, not a speck of his father visible in this house. His curly hair matched the long locks that framed her face, both pairs of eyes bright green. And the freckles, so many there were more on their faces than the amount of stars in the sky.

“Hey honey, I'm so sorry I couldn't be there today.” John only shook his head, leading her to the table.

“I have so much to tell you, just not now.”

“Tonight? The Lion King is on, talk then?”

“Perfect!” John beamed.

They sat down and began eating, and that's when the pain came back.

It was so sharp, sudden, like he was being stabbed in the gut, but he knew it was just hunger. He couldn't tell if he want to stop eating for shove more in his face, looking green.

“Mama.” He grumbled, clutching his stomach again. Angelica grabbed his arm, helping stand and rushing to the bathroom.

He's never puked so much in one day, it was kind of remarkable.

When he was finished, his mother had joined him in the bathroom while the Schuylers stayed outside, waiting. His mom took his hand, taking the cloth Mrs. Schuyler gave her and pressed it to his face.

“I think I'm going to take him home.”

“I wouldn't think you won't.” The nurse smiled. “If it gets worse, call me over. We're just down the street.”

“Of course.” John stood groggily, letting them lead him to the door. He stared across the street, letting the cold air blow over his heated face. As the conversation drawled on, he stared across the road.

He's always noticed how large the street was, there cookie cutter neighborhood only amplifying it. It was extremely large, six lanes crossing it in the same direction, and the other side lined with houses just the same as the ones on their side. The thing was, there was no need for that many roads. It was always empty, albeit the few cars that passed throughout the day, only making it seem even more vast.

He sneaked passed his mother, eyeing the clock in the kitchen. It was well past midnight.

He rubbed his eyes, he must be seeing things. _Oh, but he knew he wasn't_ . When he opened them again, they were caught on the string, it _burned_ over his finger, actually burned. And it seemed to glow brighter too, glowing across the street.

He hissed at the pain, wrapping his free hand around the pinky that was forced to adorn to the heat. He followed the string across the road, the only thing he noticed slicing the inky blackness…

Except, he wasn't prepared to see the other end.


	4. Tell Me You See Me

Alex didn't know what to think.

To hear that voice again. His _own_ voice again, happier. It was weird.

 _My soulmate_.

They were doing something, messing with his brain, trying to crack it open. They wanted to know more, understand why he was hurting so much he guessed. But _that sound_ . _Her_. It was too much, too soon.

The tears were spilling faster than he could stop them, the weight crushing him. He ran out of food, his clothes were wearing down, and he obviously had no shelter. With her he had all those things. Everything was so much better before- before…

His mind drifted, then came back. He was seated in his own body again, not floating loose around the world without anything out there to stabilize him.

He groped through the shredded bag again, finding it to contain a bus pass. He didn't know how much money was on it, or where it would take him- hell, he didn't even know how to use it.

Or if they would even take a beaten up kid like him. He enjoyed the sweet rush of hope that waved around him when his feet hit the concrete sidewalk, though, finding the stop easily across the baby of a town.

The small outlet was pretty empty, but neon signs for Subway and McDonald's still glowed and the sun arched over the sky. He only encountered a few people on his short walk to the bus stop, and even less cars, settling on the bench it provided, encased in glass like a show.

When he sat down, he'd just realized how sore his feet actually were, sitting on the bench. Aching now that they were resting, he stepped on a rock over his worn down soles and pushed into it, letting the pressure apply through the bottom. He sighed, forgetting completely about how fucked up he really was right now.

He let himself indulge in fantasies, one's that probably wouldn't come true. He let himself think, and wonder, and remember.

How did they do that? Bring back a memory- _and how did Alex see it?_ How did Alex see _him_. The most gorgeous creature he's ever laid eyes on. Curls blowing in a breeze he obviously couldn't feel, eyes bright green and amazed. It made him forget about how much pain that memory really held. Made it less of a challenge to cope, less of a struggle to live.

That boy, _and a girl_ , but no girl to be seen. Just a voice, shouting _John_ . His eyes drifted shut, a moan fluttering past his lips as he imagined those hands running over his sore muscles, easing his tension. They looked skill, his hands, artist fingers, gently and firm. They'd probably feel _so good_ running over his body, so lost in his deep thoughts, he almost didn't hear the bus.

Luckily it was loud, letting out of puff of smoke and screeching to a stop. It was empty, that was good, Alex really didn't have the energy to deal with people staring, judging…

“You okay, kid?”

Alex cracked out of his mind again, “ _¿Disculpe?_ ” ( _Excuse me/Sorry?/I beg your pardon)_

He really didn't mean to slip back into Spanish. He was normally so smooth, suave. His body shook, a shiver running through him. He felt helpless, tired, broken. How was he supposed to keep going if he couldn't even _talk_ to anyone.

“Get on.” The driver sighed, waving his hand frantically, “Come on!”

Alex did as he was told, to scared to do anything else. It smelled like glue, fog and glue, plastic lingering as well. Oddly enough he didn't find it disgusting, just strange. He sat down shakily, unsure of how he was still standing, running off of pure adrenaline.

But it was slowly turning to fumes. Whatever was feeding him before was dying off. He could feel the fatigue, so close to suffocating him he could feel it's cold embrace. The aches and the pains weren't far behind, keeping him ansty, ready to use every second of painless life he was given before it came back.

“Where ya goin’ kid?” He accent was a little silly. Alex liked it.

He felt his cheeks heat, turning on the pudgy driver, keeping to the straight road. Alex shook his head, shy and overcome with emotions. Tears gathered in his eyes when the driver huffed, mouth open to scold him from the front.

His psyche dropped instantly, making him feel small and lost. The tears welled and spilled. _You're alone. You don't have anywhere to go or anyone to run to anymore. Worthless, meaningless-_

He let out a sob, choking in the back of his throat. _He really was worthless, wasn't he?_ He squeezed his jacket tighter around him, body shaking so badly he fell into one of the seats.

“Kid…” He couldn't take disappointing anyone else anymore. If he was a disappointment then he had no place in this world. He was nothing. _He couldn't be nothing_. In an instant, he heard a small gasp, then a hum of satisfaction. “Sure kid. I can follow that.”

Alex blinked open an eyes, delusion making him whimper louder. _His string_ . Bright red, glowing across the road. _This man could see it, and he was following it._

He could almost hear the girl's voice again, the same one that'd screamed for the angel named John.

Ringing through his mind, it centered him. This voice belonged to a girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it. She had power, a plan, Alex could follow her. Alex _would_ follow her. And right now, that's exactly what she wanted.

_Follow it._

…

Alex almost vomited upon waking up.

The pain still had yet to return, nothing new, nothing old, but he still found himself asleep in a crack plastic seat if a night bus.

The lights that lined to floor and the roof above him seemed glaringly bright, a tipsy feeling wearing him down. To large hands were on his side, his right facing up and his back to the windows that showed an empty blackness for miles, cut off only by trees.

“Come’ere kid. I'm gettin some food in ya.” The bus driver shook him awake, helping him sit up. “Can you tell me you're name?”

“Uh…” Alex sat up, head lolling slightly. He smiled at the thought of food, “A-Alex, sir.” His voice was incredibly hoarse, and felt it too, sickness creeping painlessly into the edges.

“Ah, so he speaks.” He joked, standing up for Aled to follow. “Do you want some food, Alex?”

“Please?”

“Let's go.”

He stayed close to the man as the bus lights dimmed the further away they got, headed for an old diner that glowed bright in it's light and cliché, an arrow pointing from the sign to the store. He pushed it open, leading Alex into a booth were a teen came and took their order, smiling at the old bus driver.

Alex kicked his legs against the seat. Dirt travelled down his legs and up his back and over his face, scratches and cuts bleeding and oozing, almost covering him completely. He felt so out of place, screaming lost and homeless like the neon lights outside, obviously looking desperate.

The only strange part was the lack of pain on his part, weird for him and people who looked at a bleeding kid who wasn't hurt.

When a plate of chicken strips and french fries were set in front of him, it took the very last of his will power to stay seated and not dig in without asking. He shivered delightedly in his seat, chewing the inside of his lip-

“It's okay, kid. Eat.”

Alex scarfed it down like a wolf.

By the time they had finished, Alex had eaten his and what the driver didn't finish, holding his stomach as they made it back to the bus. A small smile snaked over his lips, suddenly aware of his situation. Well fed and rested, it might be the right time to start asking the questions he probably shouldn't have ignored in the first place.

“Sir?” Alex eased next to the chair the driver was buckling himself into. He hummed in attention, starting the engine. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Right along the edge of the Combahee River in South Carolina.”

The words sent a shiver down Alex's spine. _South Carolina._ The girls voice returned, _Charleston_ , it whispered, _find us in Charleston_.

“Uh, how far away is Charleston?” He really didn't know what he was doing. He had no backup, no original plan for that matter, merely following the voices inside his head. He swallowed his hysterics, keeping the laugh quiet too. _Yeah, just tell them I'm doing what the voices want._ He was going crazy.

“We're just south of it. Is there where you're headed?” The driver pulled into the empty road, midnight inching in on them.

“I… I think so.” He nodded, the string seeming to blaze over the road as they followed it.

Alex sat back down, eager to pass the time. His leg jigged, fingers shaking and cramping for something to do. He fished into the bag, pulling out a receipt labeled years ago. _There had to be_ something _to write with on the bus_. He got down on his knees, looking under seats and avoiding garbage until his eyes landed on something orange amongst the white wrappers.

He picked up the crayon victoriously and instantly began scribbling.

He knew he didn't have enough room to write everything he really wanted to, so he focused on the one thing that was really making his gears turn. The bubbly face of that boy came to mind again, his breathtaking grin of excitement as he gazed into Alex's past. The way his eyes widened, ignoring the voice Alex couldn't seem to forget.

He shivered, biting his lip and balancing the receipt on the window, neat cursive bundling under his finger tips. _Sparkling green eyes_ and _countless ages of freckles_ mingled together like a dance, the boys face almost seeming visible outside his window.

He filled the entire, long, list of paper until not a single whitespace was shown. He crinkled it in his fist, pulling out the bag once again and finding his old piece of filled paper. He took the receipt and put it inside the scroll, folding it so they stayed smashed together. He dropped the crayon, keeping the papers wadded around his fist.

He like the comfort it brought, knowing he had _something_ . Sure it was small, almost entirely worthless but it was _his_ , and he created it, and it belong to nobody else. _That's_ what brought him comfort, not the value it had for anyone else but the value it had for him.

When they pulled into a neighborhood, Alex was too caught up in his thoughts to notice the insane amount of roads that cut between the two sides, the cookie cutter houses, or the way his string subtlety crossed the street…

“Shit! _Ouch-_ ” he hissed, eyes darting to his finger. Nothing was on it, but he sure as hell felt the sting, like a _burning_ , like his pinky was on _fire_ -

It might as well have been.

The string was _glowing_ , _burning_ , marking his finger with a deadly bow, hissing in pain. He looked ahead, moving to find the string that was still surely in front of them- to find it gone.

“Stop!” He cried, tumbling to the back of the bus. “Please! Stop!” Oh shit, _oh shit-_ Alex felt like he was going to vomit.

The bus screeched to a halt, forgetting the bag entirely he thanked the driver, and stomped off, letting him take off. The rope burned over his finger again and this time he couldn't help but notice the _pain_ it brought with it.

His head began to ache and his limbs too sore. His stomach rumbled again, hungry it angry, it made Alex collapse into a fit of gags. The food he just ate flew out with it, the fullness of his belly overwhelming to how empty it usually was.

He hacked over the curb, driver and bus gone, hand still fisting the sheets. When he finished, his stomach lurched and his legs wobbled. His head was spinning and he vaguely wondered if this was what it was like to feel drunk and why anyone would want it. Everything took on a dull ache, additional pain added every step closer to the string he took, stumbling across the sidewalk.

He never crossed though, afraid he might get run over while his mind spun and tears welled in his eyes from the onslaught. He sobbed, throat suddenly sore, voice even more. His arms began shaking, the world to cold, bitterness leaking into every fiber of his being. He didn't _want_ to keep walking. Everything just hurt, _so bad_ , and he wanted it all to just _stop_.

 _But you're so close_!

That girl again. And the friendly, perfect face, becoming clear. He barely noticed the string change directions again, until it was right in front of him, leading him straight into a house… with an open door.

Two bodies stood in the grasp of the golden light that flooded the street and perfect grass in front of it. The smaller of the bodies held the hand of the identical taller, looking sickly. A hand grasped his stomach, Alex's doing the same, another wave of nausea settling in.

The string was burning constantly now, and Alex watched with hurt, horror, excitement, and happiness as his eyes settled on the boy, his left hand leaving the grasp of the older for a moment, to reveal-

A burning red string, connecting his finger to Alex's.

His entire world caught on fire. He was drowning. Drowning in flames. Everything hurt, everything burned, the only person he could see housing curly hair- And sparkling green eyes, meeting his across the street. The papers in his hand dropped. The fire around him washed away instantly, leaving the dark unwelcoming inky stillness of midnight. Alex couldn't breathe, his heart was beating too fast, using the only oxygen he had left.

And that just about stopped when the boy started running towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is getting posted early, cause I do have self control.


	5. I Knew You Needed Me

John could hear his mother yelling at him, shrieking for him to get out of the middle of the road.

But the boy on the other side of the road began _sobbing_ and John _needed_ to be with him.

He dashed across the street, watching the boy hobble on weak legs, shaking in the breeze. When the wind blew, he stumbled with it like he was so small and so frail he might actually blow away.

The string on his finger seemed to get brighter, the shouts behind him smaller and the pleads for him to return swallowing themselves at the sight of the shredded teen. John bit against the pain, trudging forward until his face was clearly illuminated by the glow of their fate, red gleaming over their skin. John's heart burned with it, the insistent pounding traveling to his ears, arms opening for him.

The boy had his arms wrapped around himself, both pairs of eyes snapping at the sight of the other.

“Alex.” John breathed, hair whipping widely around him. Alex stared up at him in shock, heart hammering, tears spilling.

“John!” Crying down, his voice shook with the effort of not falling in the middle of the street. _John was right there_ , he was so close, he couldn't give in now. Not yet. “John!” He screamed, but he was weak and his voice could only get so far before the wind stole it.

“I'm coming, Alex-” John gasped, a sudden pain flaring through his system. He watched Alex bring a hand to his head, then back down, coated in a thick red liquid. _Blood_. Alex shook harder, lip quivering as he stared at the amount of blood pooling over his fingers, dripping to the ground. He let out a heart wrenching howl, more tears wetting his cheeks.

John could feel the pain slowly returning too. Of course he knew it was nothing compared to what Alex was feeling, but it was still there, strong and demanding. It was crushing him, Alex stumbling with fatigue, agonizing cuts and bruises slicing over every one of his beautiful features.

John sprinted. He didn't care that his lungs- Alex's lungs- were burning as he screamed without air, or that the dull ache was more constant, throbbing insanely.

His mind spun and his heart stopped, Alex giving his all into that last push off the ground-

And right into John's open arms.

Everything fucking exploded.

John would _never_ have been prepared for the onslaught of feelings, emotions, for the entire world to melt away until it was nothing but him, him and Alex. The wind stopped blowing and then screaming shriveled away and the crying ceased and the pain subsided. It was like a million more stars were added to the sky and the colors of the world meshed together to create something more beautiful than anything they'd ever be able to think up. Their hearts synced, bodies pressed perfectly together, Alex's head falling to rest on John's shoulder.

Inside their little bubble, they were safe, but Alex was still shaking and bleeding, and John was going to do everything in his power to make him better.

“Shh, I've got you.” He whispered, catching a whimper.

“John-” Alex simpered, clutching his shirt and twisting it tight between his fingers.

“I've got you.”

White swirler around them, a cloud floating around their bodies, until John woke back up- finding the darkness urging their proximity. He cupped Alex's cheek, to small to pick him up but knowing if he could've he would've. Alex gazed up at him, worn out eyes and face boney and tired. He gave a sleepy smile, pain evident through it despite his desperation for it not to be.

John snuck an arm around his waist, clinging to him in a weak attempt to pull him up, both bodies weighed with pain. When John worked Alex’s legs underneath him, a sharp pain traveled down both of his, Alex crying out, both collapsing to the ground in a heap of sobs.

Alex was practically climbing him, wrapping around what he could while he tried to sit back up, tears loud and prominent. He shook like the world was ready to take John away at any given moment. Like stopping to take a break might take John too. John felt his own eyes water, glowing bright by the street lights, trapped in the middle of the street.

Alex gave another small whine before a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. Hoisting him up, John's mother hooked a leg under his legs and carried him tucked into her chest. Angelica had rushed over behind John, oblivious to boy now in his mother's arms, helping him stand.

They were fine for the first few seconds up on departure, until the string began sizzling around their charred skin again, an agonizing shock stabbing through them. They both cried out, John's weight falling openly onto Angelica. He shuddered, lip folding to hold back any other attempt his body made to be heard, swallowing his pain as he trudged on, eyes completely shut. Angelica stuffed her hand between his, lacing their fingers to keep him steady, finishing the last block to his house.

John barely remembers anything, only a few words being exchanged, the door slamming, and the couch coming extremely close to his face.

Then a warmth, spreading over his sore muscles, arms around his neck in a sweet embrace and the overwhelming attack on his nerves easing. He heard a faint sigh, a small whimper, and two lips pressed to his forehead.

Then the world drowned once again, recognizing the settling softness of their cloud, breached by a blanket to cover their stacked bodies. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment. Just the heaviness of someone over him. Just the _lack of_ weight on top of him, a small vow following.

_I’m gonna make it better._

…

They woke up _early_. And by early, merely an hour later, with the sky still dancing with stars and the air misty from the dew settling over the ground.

At the exact same time, two sets of eyes fluttered open, still too caught in sleep to realize the situation they both found themselves in, not used to the way it felt to sleep with someone. But when they did, Alex figured it out first.

He was sleeping on something _soft_ . He didn't wake up in dirt, or grass (except for what was still attached to his skin), and he was _warm_ . It was so _comfortable_ he felt his chest tighten at the thought of leaving, feeling so safe, but so confused. Too confused.

He grabbed fistfuls of the materials under him, inhaling the sweet smell flowers and sugar. It wasn't until he realized the smell was coming from a _body_ that his heart picked up speed, biting his lip to keep from shouting out. He scrambled frantically, eyes wide and scared, tipping off the side of the couch.

The blanket over then tangled his limbs and torso, locking him as he tried to push away. He felt his fist connect with the softness off the stomach that belonged to the body beneath him, gargling when the flat pain spread across his own abdomen. He hissed, giving a small shriek when he finally toppled off, unfortunately hitting his flailing hand on the corner of the glass coffee table.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Alex landed in the ground with a thump, hearing the boy still on the couch moan in pain, grabbing his own hand and rubbing it. Alex felt tears gather in his eyes, holding them back, hand still stinging.

The body began to still on the couch, holding his breath, Alex stood slowly, backing up. He closed his eyes, it felt like everything was on fire, burning him from the inside out. He choked, falling back to the floor, still stuck in the blanket. The tears leaked down his face, to tired and hurt to stop them. His hand burned, a blushing bruise blossoming over the back of it, dark enough to match the bags under his eyes. He joints ached from all the walking and his stomach was rumbling again, starving and upset at the same time. He moaned in utter agony, a headache settling over his temples and across his forehead, reaching his nose and when he moved his hand to apply much needed pressure, it only made his arm sting worse than it already was.

He sobbed, too overcome with pain to deal with the memories returning.

He almost screamed again when the body shot up from the couch, blazing green eyes burning through his already flaming skin.

The problem was Alex _recognized_ those eyes and he still felt wrong, twitchy in his own skin, unsure of what to do. Then last night flooded his head, making it ache further. He recalled the comfort he felt when this boy wrapped his arms around him, what he had whispered to him, the string burning-

Both eyes shot towards the glowing red bands around their finger, like they were afraid it somehow wouldn't house their fingers any longer. Alex fingered the loop, arms shaking with fatigue.

“Alex…” John breathed, and right, John was his name. Still, he felt wrong. He jumped at his name, tears falling to the carpet, soft on his bare legs where his jeans tore. His lip began quivering, the fat orbs falling into his mouth, making it salty. “Oh no,” John was standing now, taking a step in his direction. “Please, don't cry-”

Alex shuddered, pushing away on the floor. His head felt like it was about to explode, it hurt so bad, heart sinking as more thoughts settled, making him want to crawl down a gutter and drown.

_This was the boy you've tortured for years. The one you made suffer through your hunger and beatings and sicknesses. The one who's absolutely going to hate you became you've put him through more than he deserves_. You don't deserve him.

John reached a hand out, making Alex sob again. “Nono, I'm sorry-!” His voice cracked, wrapping the blanket tighter around his torso.

“Please, no, don't be sorry-” John took another step, Alex frozen with terror. _He's going to hurt you. You deserve it._

“Please no…” He whimpered, pushing himself from the carpet of the living room to the cemented tiles of the kitchen. He hit the back of a kitchen island, trapped under a granite counter perched over the edge of the wood Alex was pressed against.

“Shh.” John kept his voice low, but not menacing or dementing. It was just quiet, peaceful. “Do you remember my name?” A small look of fear crossed his features, leaving just as quickly. Alex's heart slowed slightly. _He was scared too_ . But he was scared _Alex_ wouldn't want _him_.

“J-john.” He sounded so pathetic. His voice went three octaves higher, almost screeching with his answer. John smiled, holding up his pinky. The bow was quite, dark against his pale fingers. He reached with that hand, the string pulled between them getting shorter the closer he got to Alex. And Alex let him, unraveling his own ribbon claimed finger from the jumble of blankets around him and stretching it out.

John slumped to his knees, give a small smile.

It was quite the picture from Alex's view. John on his knees, hand reaching for Alex's while the dark window behind him, lit up only by the glowing moon, drafted a breeze that fluttered his curls like the curtains surrounding it. A blush tinted his cheeks, but Alex assured himself it was from the oncoming summer hear. Alex barely took a breath, pushing his hand into John's.

John locked their hands together with his fingers, clasping then so tight his knuckles turned white. His smiled could've lit up the entire neighborhood, Alex mind spinning, the headache receding.

It was like John's touch brought him instant relief. He was a drug Alex was addicted to, making him see the the things he wanted and believe anything he said. He shook with need, falling forward with a sigh.

Without pain following, it was easy to find comfort in this strangers arms, because, he wasn't really a stranger. He knew all Alex's secrets without having been told, knew what he wanted before he said it and what he needed before he needed it. And Alex needed so many things. John tightened his arms around him, smiling spectacularly tilting his chin up to look at him. Alex blushed, eyes darkening.

“Hi.” He whispered, arms wrapping around John's neck. He swallowed his shyness for just a moment. He wasn't afraid of messing this up anymore, John had been there when Alex screwed up in the past and he was _still here_ . _So maybe Alex was doing something right._

“Hey.” John pressed their noses together in a butterfly kiss. “I've wanted to meet you for so long.” He whined, running a finger over his cheek.

“Me too.” Alex sniffed, still crying. John wiped away a stray tear. “For so long, I've dreamed of this day. Now it's finally here…” Alex coughed out a hysterical laugh, “And I messed it up!” He cried, more fat globs of tears falling.

“There was no way you could've messed this up.” Alex tensed at the sound. He had taken on something deeper, serious and sure. It made Alex shudder. “I’ve wanted you here for so long, _so long, Alex_!” He could see the tears in John's eyes too, joining his when they pressed their foreheads together. “You've been through so much _shit,_  and you still came to me, Alex. You're the strongest person I know, and I don't know which Fate gave me to you, but I'm so glad they did because I don't think I can live without you.” John finished wobbly, body shivering. “I need you here Alex.”

“I need you John.” Alex whispered, “ _Fuck_ , I can't live without you either.” He laughed, something shaky, something strong.

He could feel their linked hearts, one beat passing, eyes darting across each other's faces. Alex wanted to count every single freckle that adorned John's face and John wanted to kiss even the smallest of cuts over Alex's.

Not even another beat, and their lips were connected.

Alex's heart couldn't take it, eyes going wide before closing completely, pressing into the persistent pressure. Thousands of fireworks exploded beyond his pounding skull, lighting up his world in a way only John could. His lips were so soft, and tasted like strawberries, making him wonder what John was tasting on him. But he also couldn't make himself care too much, distracted by John's feel.

John nibbled at his lip, licking. Before slipping his tongue in, Alex giving himself up completely. John licked around his mouth, so skilled for never having done this before, his taste lingering long after he pulled away for air.

Alex gasped, then blushed so red the dried blood on his face blended in, giggling.

Then his stomach rumbled, pulling them back to reality. John laughed, so prettily Alex was visibly swooning, taking him up by his hand.

“Let's take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck me gently with a chainsaw


	6. Stick With Me

John was so lucky, he wasn't sure he could take it. His soulmate was so fucking cute, he was actually having trouble processing it.

Alex sat on the lid of the toilet, stripped to nothing but his boxers, toes pointed at each other and swinging his legs cutely. He nibbled on Saltine crackers, nothing too crazy that would upset his belly, watching John with big brown eyes as he tested the water.

When the water began to fill at the right temperature John took a washcloth and wet it, scooting over the Alex.

Alex continued to eat, letting John take one of his legs and wipe the excess amounts of dirt off his skin, looking for places to bandage before he got in the water. From just his leg, so much dirt accumulated on the rat, John had to squeeze the filthy water into the sink, pouring fresh over it and returning.

“So, Alex…” he hummed in acknowledgement, setting down his food. “What happened to you?”

His eyes glazed over for a second, body slacking. John squeezed his ankle in reassurance, pressing a kiss to his knee. Alex only stared at him, eyes wetting before answering, small and shaky,

“Alot.” He pulled it off with a teetering smile, lip starting to quiver again, “Too much.” He whispered, slipping off the seat.

John caught him eagerly, leaning against the wall across from the toilet, letting Alex bury his face in his chest. John's eyebrows creased, finding the tie to a piece of cloth wrapping around Alex's head, suddenly aware of the lack of pain he was feeling. He didn't bring it up though, settling for playing with the ends of Alex's hair.

“My father was an asshole.” Alex’s head shot up, eyes so big and expecting. John's heart clenched, smile growing.

“Really?” And Alex seemed thoroughly intrigued, wrapping his arms around John's torso so he could continue to look up at him.

“Oh yeah, he was a fucking dick.” Alex giggled, before his smile fell.

“But… weren't your parents soulmates?” John could hear the hint of fear, understanding immediately.

“No.” Alex grew up knowing Soulmates were always, forever, never broken apart. John planned on proving that for him.

Alex's face perked, “No?”

“They've got tattoos. My mother never really got a good look at his, but they were pretty _similar_.”

“Similar.” Alex repeated, “Not identical.”

“Exactly. He was absurd, abusive, not the one for her, but he insisted he was.” A pause, Alex squeezed tighter, “I'm the product of a mistake I guess.” He sighed, kissing Alex's forehead.

“No, no, no…” Alex mumbled, “Not a mistake.” Alex assured him, still distant.

When he came back a smile settled on his lips, content with never letting go of John, pressing his cheek to his heartbeat. John nestled him to the side of the bathtub, finding a towel and setting it on the toilet. Then he came back to Alex's side, helping him stand.

“Boxers on or off?” They were tore, shredded even, dirty, but if Alex wanted them on John was sure as hell going to let him. Alex's face burned,

“Off…” he whispered, hiding in John's chest.

“Here, I'm not going to look…” He secured a finger under the waistband, find Alex's eyes, holding his gaze while he slipped them off. Alex's eyes went wide, cheeks darker, letting John help him step over the side, the smallest of cramps ticking near his hip. He cringed, letting the warmth seep around him.

He moaned, eyes unfocusing again. It's been too long since he's felt this comfort, even to just be warm, and held, he could feel his skin tingling with excitement. He shivered when John's hand grazed his hip, helping him stay steady in the unfamiliarity of the water. He bit his lip, turning to John with pleading eyes.

“W-wash my hair?” He shook, shoulders sagging with pleasure.

“Of course.” John grinned, stabling himself on his knees to reach him. He poured something orange scented into his palms, lathering it until he palm disappeared beneath the foam, then stuck them in Alex's air.

Alex bit his lip harder, grabbing the sides of the tub to keep him from falling over. Feelings John massage his scalp, cleaning out the dirt and leaves, smoothing his fingers through the knots, was more than anything Alex could've asked for. His breathing picked up, closing his eyes.

He honestly didn't mean to let out a moan when John's finger snagged on a particularly nasty knot, face crimson.

A long pause followed the intrusion, Alex squeezing his eyes tighter and mind reeling. The water shook around him with his body, and he tried painfully hard to ignore the slight hardness of his bare cock, damn near to the hand John rested on his thigh. That long pause, broken only by Alex's heavy, judgemental breathing. Until John grinned, teeth flashing something devilish, eyes darkening.

“ _Alex_ …” he practically purred, though he was pretty preoccupied.

He stared at his lap, cock suddenly hard between his legs. He hasn't been able to do that in _months_. Perhaps he was too astounded to recall who was kneeling next to him, and the results of what screaming just the thing he was intent on speaking would be to remember that he'd just met John and maybe, he wasn't quite ready to hear such things.

“I'm hard.” He whispered, eye still glued to his own body. John all but choked on his own spit, gripping the side of the bathtub before his knees gave out. Alex blushed almost instantly, mouth falling open in an explanation before John could even make a noise, “Ihaven'tbeenabletodothisinforever-” he gasped, covering his blush with his hands.

John took his hands away, replacing them on his folded arms, pulling him closer, “You okay, Alex?” A nod, “Do you want to repeat that?”

Alex gazed at him, fiddling with his fingers, “It's a lot- like the whole story… it's a bit of a mouth full.”

“We've got time.” John smiled, putting a hand on Alex's chest. He dipped his head back, rinsing the soap out of his tangles before helping him back up.

“It was actually pretty recent…” Alex started, handing John a bottle of soap. He began soothing him instantly, almost like he already knew what he should be doing, rubbing the suds over him like lotion, easing the knots from his shoulders and his neck, rinsing it and applying more. “A… a hurricane. There was just so much water- screaming, John, I could _hear_ people _dying_ and I couldn't do _anything_.”

John rinsed him a final time, putting his wet hands on Alex's even wetter cheeks. His lip started to shake once again, it happened so many times John felt so bad, so helpless, it made his body ache. He _wanted_ to be able to do something, but this was way beyond him. He couldn't do anything, he didn't understand a _trauma_ like that. All he could do was hold this shaking boy like he meant the world to him, because he absolutely did.

“Sh, I know, it's okay… it's okay.” He brushed the wetness from his face. Alex sniffled, leaning into the touch. “Want to keep going?” John didn't want to push him, but he felt that deep down, letting this out would help him. Help him move on, help him get closer to John, just make him happier. These things were holding him back from so much, John just wanted him to be free, to feel free.

“It's just so much as happened… Mama died a few days later- that's when I left John… I needed you.” Alex sobbed, “I r-really n-need you-” he choked.

“I need you too, baby, Shh, it's okay…”

And John held him, stroking his hair until he calmed down again, ready to make habit if he needed to. Alex's head flopped onto his shoulder, biting into it to keep from crying out, John's arm bending to stay connected to Alex's hair.

They both jumped when a knock sounded from the door, soft but meaningful.

“Yes?” John whispered, close to tears himself. Alex hid further, wrapping sneaking his arm over John's shoulders and behind his neck.

“Baby?” John's mother called from the other side of the door, “You okay?” She opened it a crack, peeking through.

Neither boy cared that she found them like this, simply staying where they were. Alex didn't even have it in him to feel embarrassed anymore, it almost felt normal, comforting that John's mother found him. It wasn't weird or awkward, it felt sweet and comforting, it felt like _home_.

“Hey Alex…” He moaned into John's shoulder, sounding broken. She watched a few tears slip down John's cheek at the sound, her own heart aching. “Alex, baby, I'm going to take you to a doctor okay?”

He looked up slowly, biting his lip. And god, he looked so _destroyed_ . Absolutely _broken_ , a hand flew over to her mouth to stifle the gasp. Alex didn't even look at her, focusing on John's hand, moving a stray hair away from his cheeks.

“I-is John coming?” He didn't have the energy to be opposed. He just wanted John.

She looked to her son, who gave a nod, finding Alex's hand and squeezing. “Of course, honey.” She paused, then looked back at John, “Help him get ready. I'm going to make you something to eat… something easy to digest.” John nodded, ready to help Alex stand by the time she left.

Alex stared at him, a soft smile shattering the despair. “Thank you.” So quiet, John almost didn't hear it. He pressed a kiss to his face anyway, pulling him into the drying rug.

He snatched the towel from the counter, wrapping it around the wet boy, keeping it secured around his shoulders.

“Stay?” John gave Alex the clasp of the towel, but Alex was faster than he seemed, taking John's hand before he could escape to get him some clothes. Alex shook his head, never quite leaving the verge of tears. “Okay.” John smiled, taking his hand more fully.

He trudged then down the hallway to his room, passing the guest and his mother's before coming up to the last door and pushing it open with his foot. He pulled Alex in behind him, locking it so Alex could let the towel fall loose, collapsing on John's bed.

John grinned with contentment, releasing his hand and moving to his closet.

The door squeaked, _loud_ as it always was, pulling out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, closing it with another deafening screech. He flinched turning around, only for his breath to be stolen once again.

Alex was laying so _casually_ but so _seductively_ , with his legs crossed, stomach stretched and hands pulling at his drying hair. He was so pale, hints of a tan blooming over his features in certain places, adorned with soft bruises and glowing cuts, all of which had stopped bleeding. He had scars too, standing proudly white across his sides, running over his hips and his thighs. He was skinny, but not in an obviously normal way. His thighs were still cushioned, it was just his stomach, ribs jutting out unevenly in a way that spoke of having the slightest bit of chub at some point.

Alex's eyes locked on him, and suddenly he really couldn't breathe. His lungs actually began to burn, heart picking up speed with _pain_. So much, everywhere, the headache returning within the few seconds he stepped away from his Mate, Alex's eyes closing around more painful tears.

“John-” he whimpered, the pain overcoming. He pushed on his temples with the heels of his palms, digging in deeper to ease the pressure banging around his skull. John could feel it too, toppling over like a tipsy mess to link his hand around Alex's waist, pulling him closer.

It was more or less of a surprise when the pain easily subsided, realizing John's touch _really was_ making it better. They gazed at each other, mouths wide with awe and wonder.

“That's not normal… is it?” Alex squinted.

“I have no idea.” John concluded, keeping their bodies pressed against each other. They're warmth mingled in the middle, smiles spreading over their faces, staying their but knowing full well they'd have to get ready soon. It wasn't until Alex started blushing again, and John felt a semi-hardness pressing into his stomach, that he decided they should probably get up.

They kept their hands linked when they stood, John turning away so Alex could have at least a hint of privacy. When they finished, John led them downstairs and into the kitchen, pulling a bar stool out for Alex. He stayed leaning on John the entire time.

“My feet and legs really hurt.” He mumbled to himself, swinging them slightly. John grinned, moving to stand behind him. He put a hand on each of his thighs, squeezing them.

“I'll rub them when we get in the car.” He whispered, breathing in his ear. Alex shivered, an urge to lock himself in the vehicle overwhelming him. Alex nodded eagerly, stopping when Eleanor turned to them.

“You boys ready?” They nodded. She handed John a rather large thermos of soup, followed by two spoons. “Sorry about the time,” she motioned to the blue lights above their oven, _2:37_ glowing bright, “But they seemed- er- _eager_ to see you, Alex.” She bit her lip, suddenly serious.

“Mom…?” John quirked up an eyebrow, feeling the tension settle.

“I don't mean to intrude, I really don't, but…” She turned to John, “I saw a picture in your room… of him… and his name was on the back.”

“Okay…” John spoke slowly, trouble lingering.

“And when I told the doctor, they asked for your mother's name? And… I said it was Hamilton- Alexander Hamilton.” She ran her fingers through her hair, “And they think you're related to the most famous doctor in all of America?” She gave a nervous chuckle, looking between the two boys with equal expressions of shock.

“... You mean Rachel Hamilton? The Caribbean…” He died off, looking to Alex. “You're from Nevis.” A nod, “In the Caribbean.” Another.

“M-mama's name was Rachel.” He said rather quietly. “She never told me about her job- but it can't have been a doctor… we were poor- _very_ poor. We lived off necessities…?” He looked frustrated, squeezing John's hand tighter. “She left.” He whispered, suddenly deathly small. “She went to America before she died… came back with-”

“Yellow fever.” Eleanor said, taking Alex's hand from across the bar. “She died of Yellow Fever, didn't she.” Alex nodded once again, “I  _should have known_ , I should have _fucking known_ . _¡Mierda!_ ” She screamed, releasing his palm.

“Mother!” John hissed, hugging Alex closer.

“We gotta go, get him in the car John.”

“Mom-”

“ _John_ , get him in the damn car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They made it!! <3


	7. We Know How to Help

“Mommy, what's going on?” John squeezed himself into the middle of the backseat, pressing Alex to the window.

“Sh, baby, we'll figure it out when we get there.”

John grumbled, his mom knew he was just trying to get information. Alex on the other hand looked downright terrified, fidgeting, hand sweaty and shaking in John's. John smiled at him, patting his thigh. Alex gave him a nervous glance, down to the hand John was hitting with to his face.

“I think I promised you a foot rub.” John smiled, hitting his own leg again. Alex took the hint, twisting between the seatbelt until he was leaning against the window, legs on John's lap.

He slipped off Alex's shoes, keeping John's borrowed socks on, rearranging them before beginning. He dug his thumb into the arch, already drawing a little gasp from him. He watched the ease spread through his body in waves, settling prettily in place. A small smile fit over his face, only adding to the perfection. He continued kneading the skin, going between his toes to his heels, living off the small gasps, moans, or whimpers he let out. Alex bit his lip, watching John work his way up his calves, squeezing the sore muscles.

“Feels nice…” Alex mumbled, pressing a hand to his cheek, leaning against it. John ran his fingers over the tense muscles again, this time twisting his hand to reach some of the untouched flesh, yanking another shiver out of Alex. “ _Really_ nice.”

“Good.” John huffed, smiling. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Alex's thigh, making him blush and stutter. “You're gonna be okay, alright?”

“Yeah…” Distantly responding, an echo of his normal voice, then, “Yeah.” Firmly.

For the entire car ride, it was just Alex over John, who continued to rub his legs, going so far up his thighs it made him blush a deep red, turning on the last stoplight of the street.

His mother made quick work of getting them out of the car and pushing them past the automatic doors of the hospital and to the from desk.

They kept their hands linked, gazing around at the late night scene of a normally bustering building. The doors gave way to a circular desk cutting through the center of the equally round base floor of the hospital. The large roof was held by pillars spaced evenly between the large windows, the only light from outside from the cars entering or leaving the facility. Chairs we're set _everywhere_ , for waiting by the different doors for different parts. John grimaced looking at the sign for _Lab Work_. He absolutely hated needles, blood, and anything to do with it.

Alex looked back at him, leaning on his shoulder. “Tired.” He mumbled before closing his eyes, eyelashes batting his skin. John's face colored the slightest bit, despite the lack of people, feeling the blaze of camera in their non-private setting.

He was startled awake when Eleanor spun around, barely missing hitting her son with her purse, ushering them to the seats next to the door.

Alex fell into the habit of calming down once they stopped walking, resting, standing, sitting, as long as they weren't moving he was fine, but when they started again that startled look never seemed to leave, keeping him freaked out. He sat at the edge of his seat, hand having moved up John's arm until it was clasped around his wrist, traveling further.

“Mom,” John turned from him to his other side, “You're scaring him!” He whispered, leaning to her ear. His voice came pretty close to the kind of whine you hear during movies, when the parent is being embarrassing.

She poked at him sheepishly, giving a small smile. “I'm sorry, it's just, if we're right about his mother, then there's a chance he's still has that illness. A cold fear ran through him, body going rigid. His eyes went wide, mouth falling open. Alex pulled his feet on the chair, tucking them under his leg so he could lean over him, sensing his unease.

“What's wrong?” Alex slurred, settling into their new position.

“Nothing.” John choked. When Alex nestled into his side, closing his eyes once again, John continued. “So… you think he could _die_?” He shook violently, hoping Alex wouldn't feel it.

His mother look horrified. “Absolutely not!” She hissed, “We have vaccines, you know.” She added a little more light heartedly. John wasn't having it. “It's just… maybe.” She breathed, taking his hand. “Rachel Hamilton died saving people, but it's not only that.”

“He's asleep, you can tell me.” John confirmed, knowing why she was shielding the topic.

“But do you _want_ to know?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, pressure a thumb and her forefinger to her nose. “Okay, okay.” She pulled her hands away for a second, pulling her curls back. “Yellow Fever is crazy contagious and there isn't really a cure… it just leaves with proper care. But, it's hard to give people proper care when it's as contagious as it is.”

“I know the story, _mama_ , I just don't understand what is has to do with Alex.” John leaned on her, head connecting with her shoulder.

“It’s possible he has it, and with what he's been through, your connection might be the only thing keeping him alive right now.” Time seemed to slow, just enough so that he felt his heart jump. He could feel the tears start to wet his eyes, jumping from his solemn mother to his sleeping lover. He couldn't lose him, not now, not ever. A home was burning through his lungs, passing his heart, aching throughout his body. He couldn't handle this pain, despite everything he and Alex had felt together, this was the worst.

Alex's words rang in his ears, _I could hear people dying. I couldn't do anything._ He tangled his fingers in his hair, pressing a hard kiss to his forehead, teeth hitting the back of his lip. He stayed like that until Alex cracked open an eye, catching the tears landing on his face and tugging him closer.

It felt like _hours_ before they were called back, having waited for so long, Alex was squirming to use the bathroom, Eleanor deciding it would be best for him to wait in case they needed to test him.

She wasn't off, not even my a second, taking the gold. They pulled him back into a room, both of the Laurens’ following into the nondescript room, adorned with a single chair for the patient's guest, a desk and seat for the doctor and if course the bed for the actual patient.

They sat him down, ran vitals, and waited for the doctor to come by, the nurse giving them a cheery smile despite the definite tiredness of her look.

The knock made them all jump, unease being the common denominator, pulling in a middle-aged woman, older than John's mother but not by much. She shook all their hands, then proceeded to approach Alex.

“The first thing I must address is your last names.” She took Alex's hand, bent his fingers and tested their maneuvers as they talked. “All forms say you have no direct relation to Mr. Hamilton and have, in no way, custody of him.” She spoke sternly, but John noticed the little tick in her voice. Something that indicated care, like if they somehow came up with an excuse or negotiation, she'd let them at it, even without custody. Like she really did care for people above legalistics.

“Yes, understand his mother could be considered infamous in our nation, not so much in his.” She nodded, moving to Alex's legs, “They were poor, had a lack of health insurance and could in no way take care of her child. She passed during one of her missions.”

“I understand his mother's name was Rachel Hamilton, are you referring to the Rachel Hamilton responsible for saving hundreds of lives during the Yellow Fever outbreak down in Orlando?”

“I do.”

“Ah.” She gave Alex a glance, stretching him to lay down. John placed a hand on his leg, watching him ease over instantly. “And of the father?”

“His whereabouts are unknown.” John yawned. This entire conversation happened in the car.

“Do you plan on retrieving custody?”

“Yes.”

Both boys shot up, unreadable looks of mixed emotions melding together. They didn't let the question, or answer, linger. The nurse immediately returned to the not at task.

“I can run tests, but until you have custody, I'm afraid I can't perform or prescribe anything for him.” Eleanor nodded, but didn't let the subject drop.

“But you can, as long as his Mate is present.”

“But Miss, you can't possibly-” She cut herself off, turning to John. Alex looked over his stomach to her, holding up his pinky. John did the same, the red string becoming bluntly obvious. “Very well.” She smiled, “Let's begin the testing.”

Eleanor grinned. Being friends with a nurse did have it's benefits. The whole Soulmate thing had been a huge controversy for _years_ , but after a while people decided it shouldn't be that big of a problem, especially in the medical zone. People didn't really understand Soulmates, but what they did know was Fate never made mistakes. You're Mate knew you inside and out before you even met, so it's only safe to presume they can give your consent.

The doctor left for a moment, returning with a nurse who was holding a tray of assorted instruments and containers, leading them away from the room. She took them down a long hallway, both boys immediately getting lost. There was no way they'd find their way out on their own, so still they followed.

She brought them to a similar room, only this held a bed, two chairs, a television and it's own bathroom. The nurse grabbed the table connected to the bed, that could be moved to hover over the ground or over the bed, setting the tray on it.

The doctor slumped in a few moments later, addressing them, “We'll need to run quite a few tests, only because of the conditions he previously lived in.” She turned to Alex, “I'm very aware of how Nevis was before, and after, the hurricane. It's the only reason this has to be _very_ extensive.”

“I… I understand.” He grimaced, looking to the needle the nurse unsheathed.

“Perfect!” She cheered, moving to the test table, “We'll need a urine sample, blood tests, a spit swab, and a semen analysis.”

Alex's jaw almost fell off his face from how far it was gaping. She mouthed a small 'Sorry’ and moved on, handing him a cup.

“We'll do the urine, then blood and spit so you can collect while we're gone.” Once again she gave an empathic glance, spinning to talk to the nurse.

He looked to the bathroom, then at John, knowing what pain was to come if they broke their connection too long.

“Be fast.” John said, pushing him to the door. He was, coming out a minute later with the filled cup and a rather relieved look on his face. The empty smell of soap followed him when he took John's hand, leading him to the other side of the bed with him.

The nurse allowed John to sit down first, thinking it was probably Alex's nerves, Alex sitting in his lap.

“This might be a little uncomfortable.” She grimaced, tying the bright blue band on his upper arm. Alex took John's shirt in his hand, balling it up to hold. John kept his arms around his waist. She swabbed it off, the chemical smell making John gag from memory, body automatically understanding what was coming next.

“So perfect.” John whispered into his neck, a smile spreading before the butterfly needle was attacking him.

“Just a little pinch.” She said, and pressed it in. It did feel exactly like a pinch, maybe if someone used their nails instead. He tensed up, but the worst was watching the blood drain from his body and into multiple different tubes.

Hallway through the transaction he kept his body deathly still for the doctor to tap open his jaw, sticking what looked like a giant cotton swab in his mouth. He gagged, feeling it rub against the back of his throat, more out of surprise than anything really.

Then the needle was pulled out, and his arm was gauzed and wrapped, tightening around his elbow. The nurse took the blood and escaped down the hallway, leaving the doctor to them.

“We're going to keep him on watch for tonight,” She turned to Eleanor, “So he will be staying tonight, but if he needs any surgery or treatment, based on the severity of the condition will dictate when the actions need to commence.” They all nodded, “And Alex, we'll be back with the test results but in the meantime…” She pointed to the other cup, giving a weak smile. “See you soon.” Was the last thing she said before she too disappeared down the hallway.

John gave Alex a kiss as he stood, following until he reached the door. Alex turned around, finding John's pretty green orbs staring back at him.

He took Alex's hand, finding it cold and clammy. He really shouldn't be this nervous over doing _this_ , but he was and he couldn't help the rosy tint to his cheeks, making him even more embarrassed at the thought of John being _right outside the door_ and would probably be able to hear everything-

Alex's mindless internal rambling was cut short when John's hand scuffed over his cheek.

“Hey,” He leaned close, “Shout if you need me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WISH I KNEW HOOOOOW
> 
> TO BREAK THIS SPELL


	8. Love Isn't Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sin. Except for the very end. But for the most part
> 
>  
> 
> Sin.

Alex looked around the bathroom a small annoyance tapping him. He looked over the shower, the plain white curtain matching the walls and the sink and the toilet and everything else in the room. It stood out too uncomfortably, how everything was perfect and completely unhomily.

He knocked it off either way, taking a look at the small cup then to his zipper. _Okay_.

He slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor, staring with his eyebrows scrunched at his crotch. He really didn't know how to approach this.

It wasn't that he hadn't masturbated before it's just how long it's been and how everything had changed. _And maybe the fact that your soulmate is on the other side of the door_.

He pushed a palm down, setting the cup to the side. He bit his lip, thighs wrapping around his arm as he pressed harder onto his clothed cock. He shuddered, feeling it chub up slightly.

He heard a giggle from the other side of the door, pausing his ministrations immediately. It sounded so _close_ quickly realizing that it _was_ . His heart picked up speed at the sound of John, knowing he was right there _and ready to help if he needed it_ , whimpering.

He snuck his hand into his pants, over his boxers, pressing down again.

His hand flew up to cover his mouth, feeling the pleasure spark through him. John made another noise on the other side of the door, and that's when Alex’s mind clicked into gear, figuring out John was actually _leaning on the door_ , as in he really was ready if Alex wanted him in here.

Alex wasn't even sure if he could get himself off like this, knowing John was so close but just out of reach. He choked, hand freezing.

A small bubble of pain flared through his head, followed by the intensely growing ache in his legs.

“Shit-” pressed a finger to his temples, already feeling his deflate at the pain. “John…” he mumbled, curling up.

He heard a soft click, then knock, “Alex, you okay?”

John could probably feel the pain too, he realized, “John.” He said a little louder, looking to the turning knob.

John poked his head inside, heart leaping in his chest when he saw Alex, bundled up on the floor. He closed the door softly, rushing over to him until he arms were wrapped around him and Alex had wormed his way into his lap.

He sighed when the pain was relieved instantly, John's hair falling loose over both of their shoulders. Alex laughed,

“Your hair's long.” He commented absently. John chuckled,

“You’re talkin’.” He nuzzled into his shoulder, inhaling Alex's scent, “And not only that, you smell _sweet_. You're about two steps away from being full on female.” He joked. It may have just been talk, but Alex could've sworn his heart hopped out of his chest when John added, “I'll have to call you baby girl.”

He breath audibly hitched, and his cock stiffened between his legs. Cheeks burning, he hid his face between his hands, whimpering.

John kissed him, “Oh, baby girl…” he blushed harder, turning to look at him. John's arm raked down his sides, biting his lip to keep from crying out. When his hand found his zipper, it stopped, Alex's heart with it. “Need some help?” He whispered, suggestions thrown loose through the air.

“Mm- _yes_.” He choked, voice cracking. John giggled, unzipping him completely.

“Oh,” John palmed the bulge, other hand finding Alex's lips. He kept his fingers locked around his mouth, Alex taking it gladly spilling nonsensically into his palm. “You're big, hm-” Alex keened, back arching at the praise.

John continued to litter his neck with kisses, biting and marking as he did, licking and sucking at the soft unscathed flesh. Alex loved every second of it, from the sting of the bite to his tongue nursing the fresh wound, ecstasy building beneath his skin, crawling through his veins.

John's fingers found the head, peeking above the waistband of John's borrowed boxers, pinching at the wetness gathering there. Alex puffed out air, shakily tossing his hair over one shoulder, keeping it from being sweat soaked to his forehead. John nibbled more eager bites into the newly exposed parts, hand never ceasing below.

Alex was absolutely sobbing, shaking, shuddering, burning for attention. He'd push his hips to gain nothing, John's hand still never pushing away the large boxers, sticking to fighting above.

Alex pointed to the cup, hoping his urgency would speed up the process, suddenly desperate for his release.

He was _teasing_ , playing over the head but never dipping below the hem.

“J-john…!” He pushed his hand away, turning to straddle the other. He heard John gasp, before silencing himself, letting Alex control. “Please-” He whimpered, brushing their clothes erections. Alex's broken sons were enough to get him going, almost close to tears.

“Sh, baby girl, I got you…” He pulled Alex out fully, taking in the sight of his naked cock. It was long, red, the tip pearling with precome. It was tanner than the rest of his body, holding some of his previous color, throbbing with need. John bit his lip, cock twitching.

“You-” Alex breathed, “Y-you too.” He clawed at John's bulge, hands too shaky to unbutton. John nodded, presenting himself to his Mate, lining them up.

John's was thicker, Alex's longer, paler but both beating red. Alex moaned, choking over himself. He pulled John in for a kiss, lips connecting passionately in the middle. Everything seemed to glow ten times brighter at the bond, Alex's body dissolving into pure fits of pleasure.

“Gotta tell me when you're close, baby girl.” Alex nodded against his head, eyes shut.

He was feeling _so much_ , almost _too much_ , like beneath the surface he could feel _more_ , a pleasure building that wasn't his.

His eyes rolled back behind his lids when John wrapped his hand around them both, almost unable to contain them to one hand. Alex's entire body shook, mouth falling open, words and noises falling loose.

John's breath went ragged next to him, synchronized hearts beating faster than ever before, the intimacy only making them want to press each other closer. Impossibly closer.

Alex thrusted into John's hand, both boys crying out at the contact, their precome lubed cocks sliding mercilessly against each other, bringing him to his end all to soon. He sobbed again, lips quivering.

“John, John, John-” he sang, reaching blindly for the cup. John kept his hand tight, using his free one to reach for the plastic container, splitting their connection for barely a second.

He turned Alex back around, rutting desperately into his back as he moved to stroke Alex, holding the cup in front of him. The tight coil of heat snuck up, on him, the sweet slide of Alex's shirt bring him to the perfect end of pleasure, mouthing falling open, hand tightening, shooting up Alex's back.

And Alex could feel _everything_ , both feelings melting into a harmony. _John's_ orgasm ripped through _Alex_ , his entire body seizing up, John's strokes strikingly prominent as the waves rocked through him until he was crushed to the side between pleasure and overstimulation, but never crossing the line.

“John!” He screamed, stretching out when the waves got stronger and he was drowning, drowning in everything surrounding him. John's scent, feelings, his hand on him, and his body stuck snugly underneath him and his back coated in his come and his cock still pressed to his skin.

When his own orgasm shot through him, it was stronger than any lightning shock or any wave. It was a _torrent_ , a _volcano_ , shaking him to his core.

“ _Fuck-_ Alex, Alex- shit- ha I can _feel_ -” John struggled, and Alex understood, but he was too far gone to form anything near words. Lava was cycling through his blood, burning him so beautifully he could scream. He _was_ screaming, and he didn't care who could hear, he had John and John was making him feel like he owned the world.

When his high settled down, he didn't even know if he could breathe properly, stuck heaving on the floor. Everything was shaking with aftershock and he couldn't care enough to stop it. It felt good, tempting to never move again, content with the rest. The satisfaction of finishing and being completely tired was too perfect.

“Johnsogood-” he slurred, a happy smile on his face. John giggled behind him, stomach jumping as he did.

They laid like that until John decided to squeeze away from him.

“Gotta give this to them.” he shook the come filled cup, Alex's face heating enough to be noticeable. John kissed his cheek, “Love you baby girl.”

He froze.

So did Alex.

Sure the word was going to slip eventually, and Alex had no idea if this was too early or not early enough, but the word made his heart clench with excitement. He smiled, pulling him in for another light bursting kiss.

“I love you too.” He wanted when the broke apart. “So, so much John. You're saving me. You did save me. I love you.” flooding their overworked bodies with emotion, they stared at each other for a long moment, breathing each other's air, they were so close.

John's arms snuck around his waist, locking him in a hug. “Love you.”

Alex decided to come with him, tumbling out the door with their hands locked. They were relieved to find the room empty of all people, John settling the still dazed Alex on his bed, tucking the blanket around him. He passed out almost instantly, his stamina something to laugh at.

John thought it was too cute, though, pecking his cheek before opening the door. His mother sat talking to the doctor, voices hushed whispers. The door creaked, breaking their concentration enough to notice him.

“Ah, John.” The doctor smiled. It was so fake, John could feel the twitching she was hiding. “Thank you.” She took the cup, tucking it between her arm and a stack of papers.

He made a move to return to Alex, when his arm was grabbed. He was spun by his mother, to exhausted to put up any kind of fight, physical or verbal.

“While you're here, Honey, there's something we have to discuss.”

“Hm?” He blinked, sleep sneaking over him.

“Uh, Alex. He's still got rather strong traces of Yellow Fever.”

He felt he should've been more surprised, or even worried, but he could feel things. Like he could feel Alex's heart beating through his and his life force strong as ever, flowing through both of them. He felt that if the Fates we're about to end his life, he'd know.

“And?”

“And… they want to try something… like new, new. Alex would be the first. Now. We'd have to do it now.”

John nodded. There we go. The Fates _were_ trying to tell him something. The fear wasn't strong, barely a nerve, just hope.

“Okay.”

“What?” He Mother turned to him.

“Yeah, let's do it. If it's got a chance of saving him, we'll do it.” John confirmed, fighting his fatigue.

“Are you sure?” The doctor fumbled through pages as she spoke.

“I can… _feel_ him. He'd want this. I know it.”

“Okay…” She said.

“Okay.” John repeated. “Let's go tell him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is literally going to show up at the end idk


	9. I'll Do Anything For You

John was absolutely _terrified_ . He absolutely _hated_ needles.

When they'd brought up the procedure, he wasn't too focused in the logistics of it, but more focused on the face that Alex would have to be under anesthesia during it. And if feeling Alex getting poked by a needle wouldn't have been bad enough, they told him that _he'd_ have to be under anesthesia too, based on the unreliable patterns in the characteristics of their bond.

Alex groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, smiling to find John had returned to his place, lodged in his side.

“You're going in for surgery.” He whispered. Alex just smiled. Should've been scared but he was too tired to be. And he's had worse happen to him.

“Mk.” He sighed, happily snuggling into his side. Normal John's mind would've soared, but today, he was reduced to shaking whimpers. Alex noticed. “John?”

“Needles. They have to give us both IVs.” The color seemed to drain from his at the words, Alex's overprotective nature kicking in. He easily flipped them, John's pilant body easy to move, nestling on top of him, legs falling on either side of John's waist.

“You're gonna be okay, alright. We're going to do this together, and we're gonna be fine. Yes?” John nodded.

He felt sick, stupid, helpless. Alex was the one going in for surgery, not him, he should be consoling Alex not the other way around. He took Alex's hand, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face.

“M’sorry.” Alex shook his head, the hair ticking John's face.

“No. Everyone's afraid of something.”

“Not you.” John mumbled, tightening his grip.

“Heh.” Alex pulled away, “It's only a matter of time before you find out.” Leaving it open. John didn't push, letting Alex fall back down to the bed, holding him from behind, letting the comfort of being smaller settle in.

The comfort was shattered in an instant when the doctor came running in, taking John and Alex up. They hastily pulled each other closer, following her as they were led through another series of rooms into the preparation chamber.

She set the two down in a large chair, mint green like her scrubbies, clicking down the folds down table. Alex eagerly presented her with both arms.

“Ambidextrous.” He grinned proudly, “So you'll have to choose which is better.” his other mark was still rather fresh, but the dot was no longer bleeding so in hence, usable.

The doctor smiled, turning to John, “Where calling in another nurse who works in the lab so we don't have to stab you twice.” He knew what she meant, the whole pain things really starting to sneak up on him, but it still made his stomach churn.

He watched her prod at Alex's elbow crease, picking at then until she pulled out his left, and John's right. She tied the blue band stiff around Alex's arm, his forearm tingling. John felt the tightness of the band around his free arm, squeezing his eyes shut when it was wrapped around his.

“It's okay…” he heard Alex whisper, their free hands finding each other in the chair. John's breathing was talking on new rates, heart beating with how hard it was to inhale. He felt tears sting his eyes, shaking with the effort of not trying to run.

He was squeezing Alex's palm so tight, he could feel the blood pumping through it, letting out an upset mewl.

“I know that sound.” John's ears perked up, a familiar voice opening the door. “Well if it isn't my favorite patient.” Mrs. Schuyler joked, pulling on bright blue elastic gloves. She took his hand, “Glad to know you two are getting better.” Then to Alex, she brushed a strand away from his face. He needed more hair ties, John decided. Focusing on anything to take his mind off his current situation.

“This is Alex, Mrs. Schuyler.”

“Nice to meet you, _Mijo_.” Alex scrunched up his nose at the term, but said nothing. “Last I saw you, you were looking rather beaten on the street.” He cocked up an eyebrow,

“When?”

She smiled, “When you first met your Soulmate.” She didn't even let then take a breath before continuing, “I saw that drawing, John, and my was it impressive. It looks just like him.” John blushed at the praise, her fond smile teetering slightly when she was called by the nurse.

“This drawing keeps coming up, I'm going to have to see it at some point.” John shook his head, so soft he couldn't tell himself if he was saying yes or no.

“Okay, time to get started.” Mrs Schuyler took a seat before John, the nurse taking Alex. They both gave small smiles.

John whimpered when the chemical wipe was brought up for the second time that day, this time cooling his skin, leaving it feeling bare and open. She poked again, then took the needle. But for an IV, it was much larger than the butterfly one they used on Alex. He felt his eyes tear up, lip shaking at the sight. It stuck out involuntarily, Alex's hand trying desperately to ground him.

“Oh and by the way, John, I brought my girls as well as Lafayette and Hercules.” John spluttered. They were going to meet Alex. “They seemed very keen on the person Angelica couldn't stop talking about.”

His mind went blank. He couldn't tell if he was excited or nervous. _They were going to meet his Soulmate_ . _What if they don't like him? Fuck it, they're definitely going to like him!_

He briefly heard Alex whisper, “Angelica?” Before his mind returned to his body, not even fast enough to see the needle, a small stab kindering on both arms. He stiffened, but kept his mouth shut.

He refused to look when the gauze was wrapped around his arm, locking the tube in place. His body shivered at the end, Alex pulling into a one-arm hug, keeping their stretched elbows out of it.

The Alex began _poking_ at his like a _toy_ and John was actually going to vomit.

“Stop messing with it!” He gagged, watching it moved under his arm, “Oh- ew, stop- I can't- I want a divorce.”

Alex giggled, pulling him closer, “So we're already married?” John turned red, but said nothing. He smiled, drowning his nausea with laughter.

They hopped out of the chair together, linking arms. They stood for a moment, waiting for someone to come back in, a single drip in tow of the nurse.

“Since you're soulmates, to insure nothing goes wrong, we're attaching you to the same drip. That way you're dealing with the exact same things, so in case of a mishap we'll be able to pinpoint the exact variable, without the mess of all the others.”

They gave their tubed arms up, a long clear cord connecting them to machine.

“We'll unhook you after the procedure, John, but Alex’ll stay attached.” They nodded, grabbing hold of the pole. Their hands stacked, fingers lacing.

Soon they were tracking their another identical hallway, patterned with a black tile every few white and the ground fading from white to grey every now and then. They didn't look up from the floor until they realized they were in rooms, two beds spaced evenly between each other. They each claimed a bed, letting the clear tubes be their connection.

“There is a few more things we must go over before we start.” The doctor sat down at the end of John's bed. “This procedure will leave Alex almost completely motionless for a few days. It has no direct correlation to the Nervous System, I'm glad to say, but it does involve the muscles. That's what will affect him.” They nodded, slowly, confusion still laced between their faces. “He'll just be… _stiff._ ” She said finally. John 'ahhed’ and Alex laughed at it.

“Sooo…” John began, drawling until everyone was focused on him. “Someone’ll have to take care of him?”

“Yes, we will have to keep watch over him, but we assumed he'd be most comfortable with you-”

“Of course!” He declared, expressing with his hands. “I mean, I just want to know what I'd have to do, I guess…”

“Kind of a lot.” She sighed, “If at any time you need help, don't be afraid to ask. Please, this isn't just about Alex, it's about you too.”

“I… I understand.” He smiled, “But it's mostly about Alex.” She assured him with a laugh, then stood.

They watched her step to the drip, a cold feeling flooding his arm and spread through his veins. It didn't take long before his eyelids were too heavy, and sleep was far too easy to reach. He fell under at peace, knowing his was going under alongside his Alexander.

…

It was too peaceful when he woke back up. It was dark, a blanket was wrapped around him and the connection tube was no longer attached to him. The other thing that broke the silence we're hushed voices, talking on the other side of the room. Too tired to declare his awakeness, he settled for listening.

“Are you sure?” He recognized the first voice as the doctor.

“Yeah.” Alex replied sleepily.

“We can get you a feeding tube, and a catheter.”

“No…” He yawned, obviously just woken up. John smile at how cute he sounded when he was sleepy. “John can help me.” He could hear the soft smile in his voice, his own grin taking form.

“Yeah!” John whispered. “I've got you-” he slurred, the doctor laughing.

“Okay, you two, I believe you. Now get some more rest, you're still feeling some of the side effects of the IV.”

They snuggled into their pillows and blankets, whispering soft goodnights, though neither really knew what time it actually was.

…

The next time John woke up, it immediately put then to the test.

“John, John, John-” Alex choked, and John shot up from his bed.

“Alex?”

“John! Come here, quickly, please, John-” He whimpered. John groggily threw off his blankets, ignoring the cold that rattled against him.

When he padded over to Alex, he couldn't see anything, feeling blindly for the boy. He almost screamed when Alex wrapped his fingers around John's wrist, slow and steady.

“John I gotta pee, I can't get up, John I'm gonna piss the bed-”

“Shh, Alex it's okay. I've got you baby.” He snuck his arm past Alex, trying to wrap around his waist. Alex sobbed again, John quickly realizing why. “Oh, Alex. Baby it's okay, you couldn't help it…”

Sleep was gone now, John was fully awake, helping Alex sit. He'd been changed into patient gowns at some point, the entire lower half soaking beneath John's fingertips. He had wet through the sheets and mattress too, body moving flaccidly.

“I still gotta go John, help me-” He cried. John shushed him again, opening a the draw of a nightstand and fishing out a disposable bedpan.

“You're not gonna make it to the bathroom, not fast enough, so I'm gonna help you here, okay?” Alex gave a breathy noise in response, his fingers tightening.

He set the bedpan on the bed, the pulled Alex close to his chest, maneuvering from there. They were about the same size, so John couldn't really pick him up, but Alex did have _some_ mobility. His body didn't hurt, it was exactly how the doctor described it; stiff.

He bent Alex's legs for him, hovering over the mattress like he was straddling air, pushing the pan underneath him.

“Thank you, thank you thank you…” Alex breathed, releasing into it. John held him, rubbing his back, Alex feeling tense yet so relaxed at the same time.

“You're okay, baby.” He pressed a kiss to his temple, helping him sit back down when he finished. He walked away quickly, finding a wheel next to the door. It was small, spinning it between his fingers to turn on the light. It was better than a light switch because it was in his control to set how bright the light shone. He gave them just enough light to see, but not blind their waking eyes, stumbling back over to him.

He balanced the full bedpan to the bathroom, dumping it in the toilet and flushing, then tossing it in the large trash can in the corner. He washed his hands and came back to Alex, whose face was so red it was borderline a new shade.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, looking to his lap.

“Babe, it's not your fault. This is exactly what I signed up for, you're doing everything you can.” He brushed his hair back, tipping his chin. He looked to the nightstand, finding his backpack. He opened it and looked inside, snorting.

“What?” Alex asked, picking at his wet clothes.

“Well, we've been asleep for a day cause my mom brought homework.” Alex giggled, then looked down again.

“Did she, by any chance, bring a change of clothes?”

“Of course.” He pulled out two pairs of sweats, choosing the smaller and putting the other pair back. He also pulled out soaps and toothbrushes, and-

“Oh my god.”

Alex peaked up again, clearly afraid based on the look if John face. He scrunched up his face like he was ready for a hit.

“She brought _diapers_.”

Alex's mouth fell open, complete shock settling. He closed it quickly, suddenly aware of how cold his was, sitting on a soaked mattress in soaked clothes, which the diapers were clearly their to avoid.

“I'm so sorry-” John laughed, putting it back. Alex could only watch, literally, unable to move. It felt like their were weights lining every single part of his body, keeping him down. He could hold poses easily, like sitting, or laying, he just couldn't _get there_ himself.

“Wait.” He said suddenly, closing his eyes. His face was so hot, it was burning, scorching with embarrassment. “M-maybe we s-should use them…” He mumbled. He could move his face just fine, so that was good.

“... Do you want to?”

Alex still refused to look up. “Not really, but it'll be easier for both of us.” He whispered, hand still clenching around John's wrist.

“You don't need to be so embarrassed, Honey. I'm here to help, and if you'd rather me change a diaper, I'm all for it. I'm here for you, baby girl.”

“How are you so chill about this?” Alex murmured, eyes wide. John shook his head, kissing Alex. Alex kissed back, hard, filling it with his doubts, and his unease, letting it all go.

“Cause I'll do anything for you.” Alex could feel himself melting at his touch, their bodies lighting a fire between them.

John pulled Alex to the side of the bed, getting his feet to hang off the side. He worked the gown off, pulling out the pants. He strapped the diaper on, then the baggy pants, the padding almost completely invisible if you weren't looking for it.

Then John half carried him to the other bed, snuggling him into it, waiting for someone to come by so they could change the sheets.

He snuck in behind him, digging through his backpack and finding his phone.

“Dear lord, I forgot they were here.” He set the phone down, pulling Alex forward so he could sit behind him, shrugging Alex between his legs, then pulling the blanket over them both.

“Who?”

“My friends, they're in the waiting room.”

“Oh.” A pause- “ _Oh_ . _Shit_ , I'm going to have to meet them!” He slowly moved his neck, turning his head ever so slightly to watch John's expression.

“You don't have to, I can tell them to go.” Then, added, “Holy fuck, so many messages.”

“No… I want to see them… just in a minute.”

“Okay. Do you wanna read their texts with me?”

“Of course.” Alex grinned, turning back inch by inch, John resting his arms on either side of him, pulling his phone to rest in Alex's stomach.

Alex sighed, he's never felt so at ease, between John's legs and arms, his body soft behind him. He fit with him so perfectly, Alex never wanted this moment to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we just jumped on that boat


	10. Fate-s Actually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am actually apologizing right now this was supposed to be a happy fic with lots of fluff and now there's shit and magic and fuck

_Scarysexy has been added to the group chat_.

_FrenchFuck:_ **_I do not understand, I am already part of this chat_ **

_Zero-Hero:_ **_Seriously who this_ **

_Angel(ica):_ **_Alex?_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_yeah turns out my mother bought him a phone_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_I don't know how to change my name_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_Help_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_John's an asshole_ **

_Margarita:_ **_What's new?_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_Fuck you_ **

_Margarita:_ **_kidding jackass you know I love you_ **

_Sacrysexy:_ **_watch it he's mine_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_oooh, who is this stranger. He's feisty, I like it_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_nope that ones mine_ **

_BrunetteBabe:_ **_awwwwww <3_ **

_FrenchFuck:_ **_who is that one too_ **

_FrenchFuck:_ **_I am so lost_ **

_FrenchFuck:_ **_Herc I need help_ **

_Angel(ica):_ **_make yourselves decent guys, I'm coming up_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_great you can help me change my name_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_wait feisty's in the hospital with John?_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_oh shit he's the kid that passed out in the middle of the road_ **

_French Fuck:_ **_please someone explain_ **

_FrenchFuck:_ **_please_ **

_Zero-Hero:_ **_yo wtf happened to yall yesterday_ **

_Margarita:_ **_brace yourself picture boy, we're all coming up_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_that fucking picture again_ **

_Angel(ica):_ **_so he knows about the picture?_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_Oui_ **

_FrenchFuck:_ **_is that mockery_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_… oui_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_great now Laf's coming_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_don't put feisty in a bad place, I need him alive._ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_He's MINE_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_We'll see…_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_Elizaaaaa_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_She can be the Best of Wives and of Women_ **

_BestOfWomen:_ **_thanks babe_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_noooo stop let me keep him he's mine please_ **

_TurtleTyrant:_ **_you don't even know each other!_ **

_BrunetteBabe:_ **_see y'all soon_ **

_Margarita:_ **_actually yeah, who is that_ **

_Zero-Hero:_ **_she's a friend, exchange student from Mexico. She's living with me, staying if she likes it here._ **

_Zero-Hero:_ **_you guys should meet her_ **

_Scarysexy:_ **_yeah bring her tomorrow_ **

_BrunetteBabe:_ **_yeah, k see you tomorrow_ **

 

Just at the sound of the message, there was a knock at their door.

“It's Angelica!” It screamed, turning the handle. John smiled, poking Alex's side.

“You're call, do you want to meet them now or not?”

“They sound pretty great, and I've got a girlfriend to meet.”

“Alex!” John whined hugging him closer. Alex smiled, staying were he was, muscles not allowing him to go any further.

“It's open!” Alex called from the bed, telling John to cover them in more blankets. Alex was not a fan of the cold.

The door bounded open in a second, what seemed like a whole heard of people coming through. It wasn't far off. The entire group settled around him, filtering through the room with shouts and cries of excitement or anger, the door automatically sealing behind them.

“I'm so pissed at you John Laurens! You've been ignoring us for days, get fucking hospitalized and apparently you grew a fucking boyfriend while you were at it, and didn't think to fucking tell me?!”

The steaming girl had dark skin and darker hair, her face heating up with her words. A girl who looked remarkably similar, just taller and slightly slimmer put a hand on her shoulder, easing her.

“Chill, Peg. You're going to scare him.” She pointed to Alex, a look of bewildered excitement hidden behind her calm demeanor, glowing through her eyes.

John gave them an apologetic wave, then point for Alex, “Short one’s Peggy and the duplicate is Angelica.”

The latter name sent a rush of excitement running down his spine. He tucked her away, keeping a special place in his mind for her.

A girl in a bright blue dress pushed past, eyes gleaming. She smiled so widely, pulling John in a hug. She was practically suffocating John with her boobs, crushing him in the middle.

“I'm so glad neither of you are hurt! Mom told us you came to the hospital, and I absolutely flipped.” John smiled, taking her hand.

“Thanks Betsy. This is Eliza, sister to the other two.”

Alex giggled, “You look like the blood work doctor.”

“That's my mom.”

“Ah.” He paused for a second, face lighting up in an instant, “You're the Best Of Women!” She smiled, watching with laughter etched on her face as Alex shook excitedly, “John, John look, my wife's here.”

John faked a cry. “You guys are so mean to me!”

“ _Mon Ami_ I will save you.” Alex screamed when a tall guy with curly hair, pulled back in a ponytail, came toppling at them next, followed by a much larger guy in a beanie. The one currently crushing him had a french accent, brain flaring into gear.

“ _Est-ce que tu parles français?_ ” Alex pondered excitedly, teeth showing he was grinning so wide. (Do you speak French?)

Lafayette look absolutely ecstatic, flinging off them to stare him straight in the eye. He waved his hands widely,

“ _Ma langue maternelle!_ ” He cheered, jumping around. (My native language!) “Step aside, Eliza, I shall be his wife from now and for forever. _Je M'appelle Lafayette_ , just so you are aware.”

Alex giggled again, and John's heart soared. They were absolutely adoring him and he loved them back. He could feel it. And not only that, but he had a deep satisfaction from knowing they all wanted what was his.

“I think I get to be his wife.” John declared, tilting Alex's head far enough for a kiss. They all 'awwed’ except for the guy in the beanie, who snorted.

“Now we know who bottoms.”

“Oh shit.” Peggy laughed, watching them fall apart, mouths falling open.

“Bro-” John moaned, but before the rant could start, he corrected himself.

“Just kidding, we're all well aware that gender does not define sexual roles.”

John smiled, “Good. That's Hercules by the way, but you can call him Herc.”

“I like your friends.” Alex whispered, pouting for another kiss. John complied, pulling the blanket higher up their bodies.

“M’glad. Cause you're stuck for the long run.” Eliza smiled at them, half of them fairly certain she had actually hearts in her eyes. “Anyway, you guys wanna watch a movie?”

There was a T.V. nestled on the wall between the two beds, everyone nodding eagerly.

The wet mattress had been fixed before them came in, so Lafayette, and Hercules sat on it and Angelica and Peggy laid across them, heads in their laps. Eliza took the remote and handed it to John, then Tucker herself to their sides. Alex cast a little glance at Angelica, making a mental note to approach her when he could actually approach someone again.

He felt Eliza slip her hand into his, letting him squeeze it. “When John puts down the remote, squeeze his too. It'll help once you're able to move again, I promise.”

Alex smiled, doing just as she said when they decided on watching _Moana_ , squeezing both palms.

“You're more and more like your mother every second.”

“That's a compliment.”

“I'd hope so.”

“Okay,” John cut in, “I get you guys are, like, in your honeymoon stage, but if you don't shush I will toss Eliza off.”

Alex whined, “Not my wife!”

“I am your wife _Alexandre_!” Lafayette cried from the other side.

“Fine, not my _other_ wife!” He corrected, hearing Lafayette give a little 'huff’.

“Hey-” Hercules called from the other side, “You never told us what happened yesterday… or the day before or whenever this shit happened.”

John growled, actually _growled,_ “After the movie.” Alex giggled. John bit softly into the nape of his neck, making him shiver. “I just wanna watch the movie.” He pouted into Alex's skin, pulling another breathy laugh.

His eyes danced around the room, one last time, settling at all the bodies lying comfortably around him. It should've been strange how easily they settled with him, or he with them, but it wasn't. Everything about them just felt _right_.

He didn't give it a second thought. He was done with doubts and pain and hurt. He had John and everyone else. He felt like he was able to give love, not only take it, and finally, that was enough.

…

Alex hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until he was shaken awake by two familiar hands.

“John.” He murmured, a smile splitting his features.

“Hey, baby, it's time to get up. We've gotta take you to Physical.” John was still behind him, voice hot behind his ear, body shifting sweetly in tune to Alex's. “Come on, up.”

He opened his eyes to find another pair, eagerly attaching to him, recognizing them instantly.

“Angelica.” He whispered, and she smiled.

“I'm here…” she whispered. It was easy to tell something else was biting the tip of her tongue, just barely keeping herself from saying it out loud.

She was fucking strong too. Being head cheerleader must be a harder take than either would've thought, watching her ease Alex into the air. She set him down, letting him adjust to the new position. He lifted a foot, sighing when it jumped with less effort than last time.

“John-” he grasped for the second body, standing and pressing to the other side.

Together, they walked down the hall at turtle pace, giving them long enough to talk about everything that was weighing Angelica down.

“There's too much you need to know.” Angelica started, giving a tired laugh. When she opened her eyes, they looked old, full of power and fear.

“Angelica?” John adjusted Alex's arm, throwing it over his shoulders. “What's wrong?”

Alex looked up at her, biting his lip. “Should I… uh? Do you want me to… um- leave?” He knit his eyebrows together, looking utterly confused. Luckily for him, John was in the same boat.

“No… I think this involves you too.” She gave another laugh, something hysterical. “Yesterday, I was told I'd guide the new group tomorrow.”

“Okay?”

“They said I was specifically requested.”

“Oh.” Alex interjected, “So they know you, but you don't know them?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?” John questioned, focusing on the hall signs. He lead them down another one, following the arrows until they reached a set of double doors and the nurse. “We're not finished.” He whispered, passing Alex to the her.

The nurse lead them into another room. Fit like a gym, equipment was littered orderly around the space. They took him to the first of a long line of treadmills getting him on it. They set it on the lowest setting, not even a walk, letting him get used to it before restarting their conversation.

“Something’s happening.” Angelica continued, face dark. “Something we really don't want to be a part of.”

“Angie?” Alex huffed from the workout, already looking tired, “What's happening?” He half pleaded to know, sweat forming around his face.

“I… don't want to bring you two into it.” She sighed, “But that's out of my control.”

“Bring us into what? Angelica, we tell each other everything, what's going on?” Alex could see the pain, hear it in John's voice. Angelica sympathized, obviously understanding.

“I'm not sure yet, but I have a hunch.”

“A… hunch? That's it?”

“When the Fates are involved, that's all you need.”

Alex moaned beside them, “Not that I'm not intrigued, but can I please go sit down?” He bawled, clenching his fists around the machine so hard they looked that they might fall off.

John smiled at him, casting Angelica a soft glance. They did tell each other everything… _eventually_. If she needed time, John was willing.

They each grabbed an arm once again, pulling up the small boy. It was an uneventful, tired, walk back to the room, sitting down on John's bed together. Angelica ran her fingers through her hair, groaning quietly.

“Whatever I tell you needs to stay far away from everyone else.”

“It always does, Angelica.”

“I'm talking to Alex.” His head shot up at his name, eyes going wide. “You lived in Nevis, correct?” A nod, “The Caribbean is the least magical place there is.”

Alex felt like the world was playing a joke on him, he didn't even have it in him to make a face, deciding to simply a tone to his question.

“You refer to Fate as a person. Why?” Angelica froze.

“As three people, actually.” She whispered. “Heavy believer of the Greek I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cries


	11. παρατηρητής

Alex stared at her in shocked disbelief.

“Out of all the religions- you pick Greek Mythology?” Alex stared, dumbfounded.

Angelica swallowed, regretting everything that just passed her lips.

“Say whatever you want. I can't be here any longer.”

“Angelica-!” John lunged for her, but she was already standing.

“I'll be back tomorrow. Come to school, both of you. If everything that's happening is what I think is going on, then I'll tell you everything you need to know.”

“I have no idea what's going on,” Alex inputted helpfully from the bed, “And I'm not sure I really want to.”

John still looked angry, trailing Angelica as she made her way to the door. “Please, just give us something to work off of. You bombard us with whatever the fuck you're talking about- then just stand up and leave?!” Angelica looked close to tears. That _never_ happened.

“These aren't memories I want to live in, and I don't want you to live in them either.” A tear slipped down her face, her hand latching to John's. “Tomorrow. I'll know tomorrow.”

“Please.” John whispered.

There was a long pause, even Alex holding his breath. He watched, longingly and lovingly as she pulled him into a hug, letting John's hair fall loose and his foreheads hit her shoulder.

“Okay.” Her voice never reaching above a whisper, “I'll tell you what I think I know.” They didn't move, only hug tighter, when her voice cracked. “Think of it like this.”

She pulled away from John, then pulled his hand over to Alex. She set him on the bed, letting them snuggle around each other. Alex ended him pulling John into his lap, sitting in a hug so John didn't have to look up.

“I'm going to need you to be open minded on this one, Alex.”

“I… guess I get that now.”

“If you believe in the Fates as three people, just like me, and the people I'm going to have to tour, it'll make sense.”

“So you do know you're touring them.”

“Fine, the people I'm _assuming_ I'm touring.” Alex smiled, a small grin finding Angelica's lips too. “It's like they want to… take away our connections to other people.”

“Connections?” Alex was the only one talking, John staying hidden.

“Like our Soulbonds. They gave them to us as a gift after the war, and now they want to take them away.”

“No.” Alex whispered, “They can't just take that away.”

“Exactly. The people I'm assuming are coming are trying to prevent that and for some messed up _fucking reason,_ they're tying you into the mix.”

“I don't understand. How are we being tied into it?”

Angelica said nothing, working her way backwards off the bed. She stood in front of them, tying back her shirt so the stop half of her stomach was shown.

“My name is Angelica Schuyler.” She started, both looks growing in confusion. “I'm a proud daughter of Aphrodite…” She ignored their looks of shock and confusion, pulled down the top of her shirt.

And nestled in the curver of her left hip, was a name, printed prettily in cursive. _John Laurens._

“And you John, are my _paratiritís_. And I can assure you, Alexander Hamilton. That written on the left hip of one of the people coming to see me tomorrow will have your very name.”

John opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off almost instantly, face hard and set.

“ _Paratiritís_ literally translates to observer. You are our connections, out watchers. John Laurens, you're the person who's fate is so closely intertwined with mine, the Three Fates can't tell us apart. That's what we can use to keep our strings and our clocks and our steps. It's what we can use to keep our soulmates."

She let out a small growl, pulling John up from the hospital bed. He stumbled, untanging his limbs from Alex's and hitting her chest. She yanked his pants down, leaving them trapped around his ankles, and slowly pulled down the elastic of his boxers-

And sure enough, nestled in his left hip, _Angelica Schuyler_ was written in perfect cursive.

“Oh shit.” Alex breathed from the bed. “That wasn't there before.”

“That's because you know now. You can see beyond the Mist.” Angelica confirmed.

Alex took to action first, scrambling to push down his band. He blushed when it revealed the top of his diaper, but didn't let it sit long enough, pulling that down too.

Angelica could merely look at the name, her heart clenching.

Somehow she knew that's who was going to be there. Somehow she knew that name, the one she knew to well, was going to be engraved on his skin like a prize. She knew, they had similar characteristics from what ahess seen. They both came from the sea, lived like every moment was there last, lost so much and gained so little for it all.

The girl who stole her heart.

She swallowed her pain, giving him a weak smile. He looked up at her, terrified.

"Whats going on?" He started shaking, John wrapped his arms around him.

"Do you may have met your  _better_ half," She motioned to John, briefly, "But now I think it's time to meet your _other_ half."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be one fucking hell of a ride damn it I told myself I wouldn't do this fuck

**Author's Note:**

> FUCK ME I HAVE SO MANY OTHER THINGS TO BE WRITING DAMN IT.


End file.
